


A Strange Set of Circumstances: The Chamber of Secrets

by Azorrah_lee



Series: A Strange Set of Circumstance [2]
Category: Glee, Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Crossover, Fantasy, M/M, Mystery, Romance, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:18:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 59,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Azorrah_lee/pseuds/Azorrah_lee
Summary: What is the Chamber of Secrets? Who is the Heir of Slytherin? How do Kurt and his friends fit into the bigger picture?





	1. Chapter 1

The fair haired woman looked out into the spring morning as the heavy tension dissipated from the room but the smell of blood remained, filling the room and burning her nostrils all too familiarly. The sun was setting off in the distance, it seemed almost fitting; a lot of things were ending these days, as though the sun were setting forever. The age of darkness was upon them indeed but she knew the sun would rise all the same tomorrow but the dead would remain dead, the powerful would remain powerful and their secret would remain a secret, of that she was positive.

The Fidelius Charm would ensure that the treachery they committed today would never be known to the world; that she would ensure. She looked into stone grey eyes across the room, then into wild shifty eyes and nodded.

Her sister’s heavy brow was beaded with sweat as she extended a desperate hand for her own, she took it willingly, “Say you’ll never speak of this moment ever again,” she begged with desperation in her breathy deep voice, “Sister make me this solemn vow.”

“I shall make you the unbreakable vow,” the fair haired woman spoke in a higher more delicate voice, “No one outside the four of us shall ever know of the travesty of this day; we shall never speak of this to anyone outside this room.”

They all held hands in elbows as they said the dark words together; she looked from the wild dark eyes of her sister, to the manic eyes of their close friend, to the pale vacant eyes of her sister’s husband, finally they stopped on their secret.

***

_Twelve Years and three months later…_

The same fair haired woman was reading a book in a crowded bookstore; the day forgotten, the people of that room dissipated but the secret remained their burden to this day- a reality that would always be laced within the confines their souls. She lifted her eyes across the bookstore and the sight that met her left her flabbergasted and breathless; a sight she never thought she would see ever again, for the existence of the secret was based on this particular sight never being in this world.

For a moment she doubted her vision, praying that her eyesight was failing her, but it was too real to be anything short of her worst nightmare come to life. Cautiously, she moved closer for a second more detailed look, this only served to validate her suspicions.

“Hello child,” she spoke softly, looking into familiar grey eyes but they were not lifeless, they danced with life like molten silver.

“Good morning madam,” the child was polite and courteous unlike her own child but that was through no fault of his own. The fair-haired woman looked into the set of familiar pale eyes and this scared her but she would not let it show, “I’m sorry but I can’t say we’ve met.”

“No, we have not child,” she gave a nervous controlled smile; the words rang like bells in her ears as she saw her sister’s beauty in the child, “Are you a student at Hogwarts?”

The child smiled and spoke with the same politeness but it might as well have been curses as it only served to punish her, “Yes, I’m a second year.”

The woman was certain of her fears were true, the secret stood before her; the seer had been wrong, their fears and charities were with no need. Their treasons had been without need, but they now carried the burden without a means to relieve it without destroying that which they were protecting at time and paying the ultimate price. It took all she had to hold back the gaspthat had settled in her throat but could not find it her to hold her smile.

The secret was now hers alone; gone to the grave were the manic eyes of that old friend, the wild of dark eyes and vacancy of pale eyes were never seen these days; the secret, the child they thought long gone was smiling politely at her but she couldn’t say a word.

~0~

Kurt smiled devilishly at his close friends Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom; the anticipation was evident in their faces, each flashing him a bright crocked smile, Hermione’s glitteredwith the prowess of modern orthodontics. They had begged him to begin his story once before but he’d rebuffed them and insisted on only telling the story once, so they sat waiting for Harry Potter and Ron Weasley to join them.

“We’ll catch them up,” Neville insisted as her stirred in anticipation.

“No,” Kurt stuck his head out of the compartment as the clock struck twelve, the scarlet engine of the Hogwarts express roared to life but Ron and Harry were yet to materialise, “They’ll be here soon enough.” He struggled to believe his own words though, Kurt kept himself well composed but he feared for the wellbeing of his friends. Ten minutes into the journey he’d resigned to the reality that the two boys wouldn’t be joining them, “maybe they’re too good to know us now.”

“Don’t over think it,” Hermione scolded and he knew that was exactly what he was doing, he figured that like Finn they had abandoned him to sit with the quidditch jocks.

“Tell us,” Neville begged.

“So, I flew from London to Moscow and then to Petropavlovsk-Kamchatsky; when I got there, they took most of my stuff and I had to hike halfway up the side of the volcano to the base camp,” the pair had leaned in to soak up every detail with their intrigue evident, “On the first night Grand Master Iroh took my wand from me to signal the beginning of my training, from then it was meditation for a week; I couldn’t talk, I couldn’t eat, I couldn’t practice magic, I couldn’t do anything but sit and clear my mind. I sat on the black volcanic rock with the sun beating down on my back by day and the moon illuminating my nights until I managed to get an ember to form between my fingers, I wasn’t allowed to move on till I’d succeeded and it took me six days to get my first ember.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Neville scowled but Hermione shooed him.

“It was amazingly invigorating. So, then the following three weeks we did strength training, martial arts and more meditation,” Kurt can see them losing interest, “in the fifth week they taught us wandless magic, we combined the martial arts we’d learned with our ability to conjure an ember started manipulating fire wandlessly.”

“Shut up!” Hermione exclaimed with wide eyes and a hand clasped over her mouth, “Do you realise how amazing that is, only really advanced witches can master that skill.”

“I’m far from mastering it,” Kurt giggled modestly trying to stifle a blush, “I know like… two spells and it is a hell of a lot of work.”

“Do something,” Neville demanded; Kurt was surprised by the force in his voice till he added a soft ‘please’.

He parted his lips, concentrated on his inner flame and slowly exhaled a small burst of flames. Kurt wasn’t one to underplay his skills, three spells were all they had needed, “We learned to manipulate and create fire and lightning completely wandlessly, we spent the next four weeks perfecting those skills.”

“In theory, you should be able to do normal spells,” Hermione was telling him, not quite asking him.

“through out the entire eight weeks, I didn’t have a spare moment to try,” Kurt admitted, “I was too busy writing you guys. By the way, Harry didn’t reply to any of my letters so I gave up half way through the holiday.”

“I had the same problem,” Hermione added irritably, “his letters were being intercepted by a house elf, and during the second half of the break he was at Ron’s and started replying to my letters.” Kurt raised a questioning brow, “He told me when I saw him in Diagon Alley, he also said he’d be here.”

Kurt nodded his acknowledgement, “other than Pavarotti’s tragic death, the only other thing I did during the vacation was become an older brother.” Congratulations were shared from all around the compartment, “Harley Drew is an adorable monster, I can’t compete.”

“I don’t think that’s how siblinghood works,” Hermione chuckled playfully.

“Breath fire again,” Neville cheered.

Hermione smile, “No, do something different.”

Kurt took a deep breath and blue sparks glittered between his fingers as he wiggled them, “What did you do over the vacation?”

“My gran and I spent a large portion of our vacation with my Great-Uncle Algie,” Neville didn’t sound particularly excited, “He isn’t as much fun now that I’m a wizard, we used to have so much more fun when he was trying to kill me.”

“Isn’t that what family is about?”

“I read Vampire Diaries,” Hermione squealed.

Kurt squealed a reply of “Oh my god!”

“The Salvator brothers seem so dreamy,” Hermione’s voice was high and melodic as she swayed from side to side with a merry smile, “totally team Stefan.”

Kurt scrunched his face in distaste, “he is such a pussy, I’m team Damon; the bad boy vibe is slaying me.”

“I’m not having this fight with you!” Hermione rolled her eyes and moved to change the subject, “I got braces, my dad thought it was time and I now have to go home every eight weeks.”

“That’s twice during school,” Kurt warned.

“What are braces?” Neville looked very confused, “Is that the thing on your teeth, I didn’t wanna be rude so I didn’t ask.”

“Yes Neville,” Hermione giggled, “it is on my teeth to straighten them.”

“Straighten them?” Neville was perplexed by the idea of sticking something on your teeth to straighten them, “is it charmed?”

“No, it isn’t magical at all,” Kurt smiled, “it’s a system that uses pressure to realign the teeth.”

Neville didn’t seem any less confused but shrugged it off, “I also saw Beauty and the Beast.”

Kurt’s eyes grew wide at Hermione's statement, “Don’t you just love that Céline Dion song?”

“I die a little bit every time I hear it!” Hermione squealed with stars in her eyes, “that movie gives girls like me hope.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“Well Belle was a very smart girl,” Hermione began, she nervously tucked her hair behind her ear, “she was ostracized because of her intelligence, that’s something I can relate to.”

“Yeah but in real world equivalents she didn’t do that well,” Kurt argued, “she fell in love with Disney’s equivalent of Crabbe but luckily she kissed him and he turn into a stud muffin. Also Belle was based around her beauty, her intelligence was an afterthought.”

“which ones Crabbe?” Neville asked with a furrowed brow.

“It doesn’t matter, they’re the same thing.”

“I don’t know,” Hermione smiled devilishly, “Belle kind of reminds me of you.”

“Aww, thank you.”

“What is wrong with you two?” Neville finally exploded, “Do you agree on anything? How are you friends? And what are you on about?”

“Vampire Diaries is a book series,” Kurt was patronising as he explained simple preteen culture to a preteen, “Beauty and the Beast is a movie and we’ve covered braces.”

“Kurt and I may have conflicting opinions but we’re into the same things,” Hermione reassured him, “That aside, aren’t you guys so excited about having Gilderoy Lockhart as our Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?”

“Really?” Neville looked quite excited by this news.

“That explains why we had to buy all his books,” Kurt scrunched up his nose in distaste, “I read a bit of the set works, I have to say I was quite disappointed, and I didn’t learn anything.”

Hermione looked shocked and scoffed at him, “you obviously weren’t reading them thoroughly and failed to extract the knowledge between the lines.”

Kurt gave his friend a death stare, “their set work, I’m not supposed to struggle to learn something from them.”

“You're doing it again,” Neville muttered to himself.

“Why are you so team touched by my dislike of Lockhart’s written work?” Kurt smirked at his best friend, “The style of writing isn’t even good.”

Hermione was nervously fiddling with her hair, “I’m not team touched, what does that even mean?”

“It means you're being overly sensitive,” Kurt teased, “but you're deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting,” she tucked large tufts of bushy brown hair behind her ears before she looked out of the window and got to her feet, “I have to go change; I think we’ll be arriving soon. I suggest you do the same.”

“That’s called deflecting,” Kurt smirked.

“I’ll go change,” Neville announced stalking out of the compartment leaving Kurt quite confused. Kurt quickly got to work taking off his ordinary clothes; he quickly put on his grey slacks, white oxford, grey knee-highs, black dress shoes, and put on a striped silver and emerald green tie- finally, he threw a black cloak with an emerald green trim and the crest of Salazar Slytherin on the breast. Before his friends returned to join him in the compartment, he took a moment to adjust his perfectly sweeping chocolate brown hair; he was pleased with his appearance.

Hermione had been correct about the imminence of their arrival, no sooner had they finished changing into their school uniforms had the train slowed to a stop. They had dismounted and loitered on the platform for a moment trying to see if they could spot Ron and Harry in the sea of unfamiliar face as the first years were called over to the boats that would take them totake them up to the school by a large figure that could only be Hagrid.

Kurt had his Burkin in hand as he, Hermione and Neville climbed into the carriages that took the rest of the students from the train station to the Hogwarts castle, they joined Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan. Kurt had never quite taken to the boys, not since over hearing their opinions of him and Hermione; he was also sure they weren’t fond of him either which served to alleviate any awkwardness he personally felt.

“Hi guys,” the mocha skinned boy spoke with a cheerydisposition, that was definitely not what Kurt had expected.

“Kurt,” the second boy spoke his name with a thick Irish accent and Kurt knew that the tension he’d anticipated had been eased, he saw Hermione slump her shoulders, “rumour has it you got to do magic during the summer.”

His tone seemed accusing, Dean nodded along rigorously, yet they still seemed friendly enough. Kurt wasn’t sure if he was interested in sharing with the near strangers but knew that where there were rumours, there were lies, “it’s true,” he was curt in his reply, he had no desire to reveal the details of his summer to every Tom, Dick and Harry who asked.

“Is it true you saved the Minister of Magic’s life?” Seamus asked in a loud whisper.

“No,” Hermione answered for him with pursed lips.

“Why then?” the boys asked in unison.

“It’s not important now,” Kurt lifted a perfectly sculpted brow triumphantly as he spoke.

“Where are Harry and Ron?” Hermione asked as the boys exchanged looks of frustration, “We thought they might have been with you because we haven’t seen them.”

“We haven’t seen them,” Dean reassured them defensively.

“Maybe they’re with Fred and George,” Seamus suggested.

Harry pursed his lips, “that so rude of them,” they had told Hermione they couldn’t wait to hear about his summer but clearly they rather spend more of their time with Fred and George.

“Rude?” Dean looked confused.

Hermione answered for him, “we had an appointment that they didn’t honour.”

“An appointment they set,” Kurt added distastefully. He watched the boys exchanging knowing looks, “I’m sorry, do you have something you wish to share?”

“No,” Dean’s eyes went wide and he lifted his hands in surrender, “nothing.”

“You’re a bit of a bitch,” Seamus added when an awkward silence washed over the group, “nobody likes you.”

Kurt let out a gasp, “People think I’m only ‘a bit’ of a bitch.”

“How dare they!” Hermione looked equally horrified.

“Everybody knows I’m the king of bitch,” Kurt ran his fingertips through his bangs. He turned to Seamus, “it’s like everyone thinks you're an asshole but they don’t diminish that by adding ‘a bit’.”

Seamus’s ears turned beet red as he scowled at a smirking Kurt, “I can understand why Ron and Harry are avoiding you.”

“Looking at your face I can understand why girls are avoiding you,” Kurt sneered, everyone in the carriage laughed at the boy’s expense as they dismounted.

The carriage had come to a stop in front of the great stone steps that led into the castle and up to the great hall. Kurt and the rest of the group of second years walked into the castle with his bag at hand. Kurt had broken off from the group to join his own house, Slytherin; though he had singlehandedly sabotaged Slytherin’s win of the House Cup last year, he was still prideful of the silver and emerald green colours. Kurt took his seat amongst the most unpleasant of all the second years, Draco Malfoy and Millicent Bulstrode. He sat quietly, not paying much attention as Professor Dumbledore offered them a few words of wisdom for the beginning of term. He didn’t know any of the first years so paid little mind to the sorting ceremony, his thoughts were elsewhere; people thought he was a bitch, he wasn’t surprise but he was upset that they said it behind his back.

Kurt was swimming in his anger when he realised someone was talking to him, “What?” he spoke generally, unable to identify the voice that had been humming in the background.

“I asked how your summer was,” Goyle smiled at him from across the table, Kurt leaned back trying not physically shudder at the look.

“Uneventful,” Kurt spoke dismissively. The boy leaned forward and looked searchingly into Kurt, “I did normal everyday things, muggle things.”

“I saw a muggle film in London,” the boy seemed excited to find a common interest, “reminded me of you.”

Kurt raised a defeated brow, “you also saw Beauty and the Beast?” the boy nodded excitedly, “it seems everybody on the planet has seen that movie.”

Kurt longed for anyway to get away from the mundane conversation but couldn’t think of a reasonable excuse, the feast seemed to be dragging on forever. He finally grew tired of the hum of a conversation he wasn’t remotely interested in, “I’m over this.” Kurt got up and switched tables to the Hufflepuff long table; “move up.”

“Kurt,” Finn looked surprised to see him but smiled at him none the less, “I don’t have your extra books here.”

“I know,” Kurt smiled, before turning to Finn’s friends with a polite smile, “Hi.” They mumbled feeble replies, “What are you up to?”

Finn’s nose turned a violent crimson, “He’s been telling us about his new little sister,” Cedric spoke with a velvety smooth tenor, “says you named her.”

“Am not!” Finn exclaimed defensively, shaking his head vigorously.

Kurt ignored his brother and smiled broadly at the taller boy, though the difference in their heights had been reduced by Kurt’s minor growth spurt, “Cedric,” Kurt could feel the blood rushing up his neck, showing as a pink tinge creeping above his collar, “How are you?”

“I’m well and yourself,” Cedric leaned forward and Kurt felt a wave of heat coming over him as the handsome fourth year grinned at him, “did you have a good summer?”

“My summer was nothing worth mentioning,” Kurt said modestly, playing coy with a flutter of his long luscious lashes.

“I heard your nightingale died,” Cedric looked empathetic.

“Yeah, that kind of dampened the mood…” Kurt’s voice trailed off, not really wanting to talk about death, “but there was enough positive to offset the bad; Harley Drew was born, I spent some educational time in east Russia and I had a blast with my brother. Tell me Cedric, what did you do?”

“I practiced my quidditch,” Kurt was listening intently to the boy’s every word thinking only of how handsome he was, “I’m hoping to be promoted to seeker when Joel graduates end of this year.”

“Seeker?” Kurt asked in a low breathy voice, he hoped he was flirting as well as he thought he was, “I think you’ll be great at it.”

The older boy blushed lightly and smiled broadly at Kurt, “You're too kind.”

“All students are to follow their house prefects to their house dormitories,” Professor Dumbledore announced from his podium interrupting their conversation, Kurt cringed internally but didn’t allow his smile to falter.

“Till we meet again,” Cedric wagged his left brow, all Kurt could do not to embarrass himself was smile coyly.

 He got up and followed his peers through the maze of familiar hallways and staircases down to the dungeons with a happy glow about him, paying no mind to his peers as they gossiped and murmured under their breath; Kurt suspected they were speculating about the rumours of Kurt’s summer and discussing their dislike of him but he couldn’t bring himself to care from his high.

He filed into the common room and sat down in one of the quilted black leather couches that were scattered around the green lit Slytherin common room, it seemed that the commotion had attracted the giant squid to the windows that separated the Black lake from the Hogwarts dungeons. The older students had moved on to their rooms but the second years and the first years remained for further instruction. He relaxed as the head of house, Severus Snape, divided the first years into their dorm rooms before turning to the second years.

“As for you,” he looked at the group of about twenty students indifferently, “you will return to your rooms from the previous years.”

It was only when they were being assigned their rooms that the glow of summer was washed away, he was still rooming with Dumb, Dumber and Obnoxious.

~0~

“Look at those mindless imbeciles,” Kurt scowled in contempt as he and Hermione satbeside a large group of preteen boys while trying to eat their breakfast, “worshipping them as though they’ve done something commendable.”

“I can’t believe they only got detention,” Hermione complained as she adjusted the Alice band Kurt had placed on her head, “I swear they always get preferential treatment without having done anything to deserve it.”

They scowled at the boys over the breakfast spread, “And the arrogance with which they’re strutting about is what’s grating my tits.”

“Being bitchy teenagers is the best,” Hermione smiled at him and he knew her words were true, “guess who I see looking over here.”

Kurt’s eyes grew wide, “I can’t do this right now, it’s my first day of school and I can’t be thinking about boys.”

Neville dropped into the seat beside him gasping for air, “Did I miss the mail? My gran’s sending the stuff I forgot.”

“I think it’s about to arrive,” Hermione said sweetly before turning to stare Kurt down, “You’ve never been nervous about school, why are you deflecting.”

Kurt leaned in closer to his friend and lowered his voice, “Cedric is now officially a senior student, according to everything we know about teenagers, that makes him too cool for second years.” Kurt shrank deeper into his seat, “he probably thinks of me as his very good looking and intelligent younger brother.”

“psshht, people don’t stare across the great hall at their brothers.”

“Percy is staring at Ron,” Kurt retorted.

“Percy is a creep,” Hermione countered, they were interrupted from their conversation by the loud crashing of a grey owl into the pitcher of milk in front of them. Hermione and Kurt had snatched up their books and got to his feet as the milk spilled to the floor.

“Who is responsible for the owl that has ruined my robes,” Kurt screeched looking about the great hall, he noticed Ron turning as red as his hair. Kurt scoffed, rolled his eyes, waved his wand and cleaned the mess.

Ron grabbed the scarlet envelope casually, doubting he could possibly be more embarrassed but he was so wrong; as soon as he broke the wax seal on the envelope there was a loud echoing shout filling the room and shook the furniture, “Ronald Billius Weasley!”

Kurt was shocked by the firm booming voice, it went on, “How dare you take that flying car? You had absolutely no right to do so! Do you understand the consequences of your irresponsible behaviour are? Do you understand what kind of danger you put yourself and Harry? Your father is now facing an enquiry at work! If you put so much as a toe out of line I will bring you straight home, do you understand?”

Ron nodded nervously, the voice turned sweet and nurturing, “Oh Ginny, your father and I are so proud you made Gryffindor.”

For the first time Kurt noticed the embarrassed flame haired little girl sitting meekly on her own beside the other first years. Kurt felt like justice had been served when he saw how truly embarrassed both Ron and Harry looked, they had turned simultaneously white and red.


	2. Chapter 2

Kurt and Hermione’s anger had subsided and they were now on speaking terms with Harry and Ron, the howler from Mrs Weasley had been sufficient punishment. They were on their way to their first lesson of the year as a unit, catching the pair of boys up on his adventures in Kamchatka. They were strolling to the greenhouses outside the castle for Herbology, much to Kurt’s dismay, when a small blond Gryffindor stopped dead in their path; he did not advance, or exactly retreat but stood there glowing at the group.

“You guys also see it, right?” Kurt leaned over to confirm that he wasn’t losing his mind, the boy was standing exceptionally still only moving to block their way forward when they tried to step around him, “can we help you? Are you lost?”

“You're Harry Potter,” the boy looked Kurt up and down with confusion, “but why are you dressed like a Slytherin?”

Kurt kept his voice level but his polite smile fell, “I’m not Harry Potter,” he pointed to the bespectacled boy, “that’s Harry Potter.”

The boy nodded a quick thank you before stepping one pace to the left and beginning again, “Hi Harry, I’m Collin Creevy, I’m a Gryffindor too.”

Kurt looked at his friend through new eyes, asking himself what similarities existed between them that might cause someone to mistake one for the other; they were both dark haired but Harry’s more so than his and Harry wore his bangs coming forward over his forehead whereas Kurt’s were side swept;their eyes were incomparable, Harry’s eyes shone like emeralds where his were molten pools of silver; but if their looks were loosely described he could see where some confusion might arise in the search for a dark haired, light eyed, thin boy with hair covering his forehead.

Collin turned his attention from Harry to glower over the remaining three, first he pointed to the bushy haired girl, “You’re Hermione Granger, the smartest person in your year, unrivalled by anyone.” He turned to the flame haired boy, “You’re Ron Weasley, that was your flying car.” He finally turned to Kurt and raised a confused brow, “I’m not sure who you are.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kurt said dismissively.

Collin pulled out a camera and held it out toward Kurt, “Would you mind taking a picture of us? I’m going to develop them in a special potion so they move.”

Kurt took the camera with a small scoff, he was gesturing for them to huddle together when his attention was drawn away from the group posing before him to the quarrelling teachers coming around the bend; a tall handsome man and a short squat woman who looked like she’d been on the receiving end of a severe beating.

“You know, I could show you how to deal with such an exotic plant as I have prior experiences,” the blond man flashed a dazzling smile and elegantly flipped his hair, “most would have to read it in my written works but for you I’d make a special concession.”

Kurt was stunned when Professor Sprout’s reply was less than grateful, “Professor Lockhart, if Professor Dumbledore thought I was under qualified for the job I’m sure he would have asked you, I have been dealing with this particular Womping Willow for longer than you’ve been able to write your own name and I was doing just fine by it before you chose to aggravate it by trying to immobilise it.”

Lockhart looked flustered for a moment before recomposing himself, “You clearly don’t know what you're saying, I am experienced with many a womping willow, you’ve clearly bred this one differently.”

“Professor Lockhart,” the short woman stared him down and he shrank down, “I suggest you stick to Defence Against the Dark Arts and leave the Herbology to me.”

Professor Sprout eyed them suspiciously as she walked by their small congregation, when Professor Lockhart noticed them and deduced that they had witnessed that entire exchange he straightened up, smiled broadly and strolled over to them with a heart chuckle, “Woman, only way to win with them is to make them believe their right.” Kurt could see through that bravado but said nothing, something caught the man’s eye, “If you want a photograph, all you needed to do was ask.”

“This isn’t my camera,” Kurt said as Lockhart draped an arm over Kurt’s shoulders and smiled. Kurt unhooked himself from under the man’s arm as he spoke, “I’m just taking a picture of Harry, Hermione and Ron for their adoring fan and I don’t want a photo with you.”

“Harry,” the man’s attention had turned from Kurt to the more famous boy, “giving out photos this early in your career? Oh, young man, that is a bad idea, celebrity is as celebrity does and it you set your value now it undermines the rest of your career.”

“What career?” Hermione asked with a single bushy brown brow raised in confusion.

Ron smiled to himself as he spoke in a patronising tone, “Are you releasing an album?”

Harry ignored his friends’ jeers and scowled at the blond haired man, “I’ not giving out photos, I’m posing for one photo because Collin asked nicely.” The first year looked on the verge of fainting as Harry said his name, he would have died a happy man with a smile from ear to ear, “Also, I don’t want celebrity status nor am I interested in the pursuit of fame.”

Lockhart ignored the second part of Harry’s statement, choosing only to hear the part about the photo, “Well, the picture will be worth twice as much with the pair of us.”

“Can’t he just cut out the one in the daily prophet if he wants one with both of you?” Ron asked with a furrowed brow and feigned confusion.

“But he’s not in that one,” Lockhart pushed Ron and Hermione aside and smiled broadly as he clutched Harry’s shoulders, speaking out of locked teeth, “Cheese.” Kurt rolled his eyes and snapped the picture, as soon as the flash died Lockhart started to speak once more, “Once you’ve developed it, bring it round my office and I’ll sign it, I’m sure Harry will do the same.”

Collin seemed more excited about the prospect of gaining the autograph of the boy-who-lived rather than bestselling author Gilderoy Lockhart and Kurt couldn’t say he was surprised; Lockhart’s popularity didn’t seem to be as great amongst the youth as it was with middle aged woman. The boy thanked them all and run off to his first class, already several minutes late, prompting the quartet to do the same- hurrying off to greenhouse three for their Herbology.

When they arrived Professor Sprout looked less than pleased by their tardiness as they fell in beside Finn and Neville but waved it off, “Grab a set of ear muffs and step up to an empty pot, I was just about to begin.” Kurt grabbed the cleanest looking pair of fluffy pink earmuffs; he gave them a distasteful look before hanging them around his neck. Kurt pulled on the sleek dragon hide gloves he’d purchased the previous year on his trip to the Far East, “Okay second years, today we’ll be repotting mandrake, does anyone know what mandrake are?”

Both his and Hermione’s hands shot up at speed and it was to their utmost surprise when neither of them were called upon to answer the question but rather Professor Sprout pointed at Neville who had his hand in the limbo of raised hands. Neville spoke in a shaky low voice while he trebled in fear, “Mandrake are root plants that look like humans, they have a fatal scream when they are fully grown. Mandrake roots are a key ingredient in the depetrification potion.”

“Well done Longbottom,” Professor Sprout chortled gleefully but didn’t seem as surprised by Neville’s aptitude as she was by his participation, “twenty points to Gryffindor.” The Gryffindors all exchanged excited whispers of celebration, the Herbology professor spoke over the murmurs, “Mr Longbottom is correct, though the mandrake we are working with now are just babies and as such their cries won’t kill you but they will knock you out for several hours.”

“I’ll show you how to repot a mandrake, please pay close attention to how I do it because you're going to have to do the same,” Professor Sprout was gesturing with her hands wildly with every word she spoke, “After you put on your earmuffs I will gesture with a thumbs up that it’s safe to remove your earmuffs.”

She gestured for them to don their earmuffs; Kurt covered his ears with the fluffy pink muffs, securing them over his ears till he couldn’t hear Hermione next to him as they tested each other. He watched as Professor Sprout grabbed the small bush, pulled it out firmly yet careful not to snap the stem with one hand; in her hand she held a small bush but in the place of the plant’s roots there was an ugly brown wrinkly baby that was wailing; to the observing students the wails appeared to be soundlessly but Kurt knew better. The Herbology professor put the baby plant in the empty pot and started piling in soil till the baby’s wails stopped, she held up a thumbs-up and they all took off their earmuffs.

“You have to use a firm hand when unearthing the mandrake but be careful not to break the stem or the mandrake dies,” she was miming a proper stance for them to imitate as she spoke,“put it in the pot and start putting in soil to keep it warm, once it is warm it will stop crying.”

She gestured for them to begin work on their own plants, Kurt secured his earmuffs and firmly grabbed the small shrub with both hands. Professor Sprout counted them down and on three they all unearthed their mandrake, Kurt could hear a distant faint screech, Kurt lowered the ugly baby into his pot and started filling it with soil. Eventually greenhouse three seemed to be silent and they were gestured to take off their earmuffs. Professor Sprout began to lecture them on mandrake’s parallels to human behaviour and their accelerated development through the phases of human development.

“I still hate this subject,” Kurt groaned, his voice barely above a whisper as he leaned on his much taller brother, “I’m pretty sure I’m going to get an ear infection from these communal earmuffs, I don’t know what the point of these ugly things is.”

“You are such a prima donna,” Finn giggled as the lesson winded down, poking Kurt playfully in the ribs.

It was as though the mandrake had heard his insult because it was just then that a clump of dirt flew across the classroom and disaster ensued; the dirt had come from his own flower pot and hit him in the face, going straight into his left eye. Greenhouse three was filled with a loud screech of ‘motherfucker’ as Kurt clutched his eye as pain shot through him.

“Language Mr Hummel,” the professor reprimanded him but Kurt couldn’t bring himself to care as he felt grains of sand lodged deep in his eye and he feared he may lose his eyesight; even as his watered he could feel the sand held in place.Kurt was chanting curses words as he stuck his finger in his eye to alleviate the pain that was crippling his inhibitions and came away with a flimsy clear concave disk.

“Is that a piece of your eye?” Neville cried out fearfully as the second year students watched but did not understand what was happening.

Kurt did the same thing with his other eye to the same result; he felt his eyes water and the moisture flushed all the foreign bodies from his conjunctiva, the sand cleared from his eye. Kurt discarded the pair of flexible disks and shook his head in triumph. With blurry vision he turned to an indistinguishable figure and spoke in a reassuring tone, “No sweetheart, it’s a contact lens.”

 He dug blindly into his Burkin for a small case, pulled out rectangular horn rimmed spectacles; Kurt’s vision was restored when he placed the glasses on the bridge of his nose and realised he’d been talking to Harry and not Neville.

“You wear glasses?” Hermione looked taken aback by this newly discovered information, but she seemed to take this new bit of information in stride after giving it a moment’s thought.

“No, I use contact lenses but they were just ruined,” Kurt looked at the flower pot disapprovingly because it seemed like the action had been intentional, Kurt realised himself and bowed his headapologetically toward the front of the class slightly, “I’m sorry for the language Professor Sprout.”

It seemed Kurt’s small accident had killed the mood and put an end to the educational ambience,causing professor Sprout to immediately dismiss the class twenty minutes early. Nobody spoke to him as they filed out of the greenhouse,it was Finn who was the first to step to him as they rounded the castle into the main building, “does Burt know you swear like a trucker?”

Kurt had glared at him over his spectacles with his lips pursed intensely, “I pray he never finds out.” He was shaking with anger as he spoke the words as more of a warning than a request, “I think, just maybe, Herbology hates me as much as I hate it.”

“Normally I wouldn’t agree,” Hermione giggled as she walked in step with him through the entrance hall, “but the subject did just try to blind you.”

“I think you're the first person to be hated by school,” Ron chortled at his own joke but nobody else laughed

Kurt absorbed the awkwardness caused by Ron’s failed attempt at humour; he gave a small sideways smirk before going on, “We are both the typical idea of a muggle nerd.”

“How so?” Ron asked with a furrowed brow, he was trying to pretend his feeble joke hadn’t happened.

“I wear glasses and Hermione has braces.”

“Now Collin Creevy and others like him will definitely confuse the two of us,” Harry laughed lightly as they navigated the long halls and tall staircases on their way to transfiguration quad, they didn’t battle to find it because Professor McGonagall was using the same classroom she’d been in the previous year. Kurt had never had the knack for transfiguration, he ha excelled in the theory and done reasonably well in the practical exercises but it was not his strongest suit.

“Now we’re both pale, dark haired, light eyed bespectacled preteens,” Kurt groaned at the thought as Hermione led them into the front row bench seat that all of their classmates had avoided, Kurt shook the idea and focused on the class.

Professor McGonagall was an elderly lady with hair pulled into a neat bun so tight it looked to be holding her wrinkling face in place, she spoke sternly in a voice that managed to be deep and sharp as a whip at the same time. She had an impeccable command over the students but Kurt felt that her favour for the Gryffindors, the house she hailed over as head of house, though subdued; managed to snake its way in every now and again. The professor had not given them the same show as she had in first year; then they had entered her class to find a tabby cat sitting on her desk, when the class had been buzzing with light conversation the cat had jumped off the table and turned into the elderly lady.

“Good morning second years,” she spoke slowly and precisely, making sure to annunciate every syllable. She made eye contact with sharp eyes that caused all the students to shrink as she spoke, “today, I will be teaching you how to transfigure beetles into buttons.”

The professor had begun to explain the theory behind the exercise and give them instructions on how to perform the spell as Kurt furiously took down notes from the black board which was filling itself with large curly cursive letters. Kurt never understood why you’d want to do any of the things they learned in transfiguration but when he’d asked the aged woman, she’d reassured him that it was a gateway to being able to transfigure larger objects into practical ones and eventually it would help them with conjuring, a topic that Kurt had been excited about ever since. Professor McGonagall had waved her wand and beetles had been summoned from a draw in her large oak desk and one had been placed in front of each student, it took a moment for Kurt to compose himself not to scream at the sight of the creepy crawly. Kurt, who had always enjoyed reading books about wild animals and the wilderness when he’d lived in London, had discovered that he detested the great outdoors and nature when he’d been properly exposed to both; he feared most creatures and abhorred dirt which made him incompatible with the wilderness.

“Are you scared of the wee bug Hummel?” Draco Malfoy taunted from across the classroom, the class had been filled with giggles and whispers, “And you think you can go around telling people you saved the Minister of Magic’s life, pathetic really.”

Kurt had sat quietly for a moment as he shrank under Professor McGonagall’s disapproving stare but he could not hold his anger, he’d turned back to the smirking blond haired boy with fire in his eyes, “Do you want to know what’s pathetic?” Kurt’s brow twitched as he spoke, “A little boy who can’t pass a day without talking to his mommy or would you rather we talk about how you cried for her on the first night last year?”

Kurt’s comments were met with raucous laughter, Draco had been left speechless by Kurt’s cutting remarks for a moment longer than he cared to admit before stumbling a feeble reply of, “you’ll get yours,” before mouthing the word ‘mudblood’.

Kurt had made a mental note to teach the boy a long overdue lesson when he saw Professor McGonagall towering over him with a stern look on her once pretty face, “I don’t appreciate wild outbursts in my classroom, five points from each of you.”

Kurt shrugged indifferently as the Slytherins glared at his back, he knew that if her turned around most would avert their gaze out of fear and respect but he didn’t have it in him to play their games. He had turned his attention to his beetle in distaste; just looking at it was more than enough to send shivers up his spine. Kurt imagined a plain black plastic button, really visualised it before reciting the incantation they had been taught; his first try had been a failure in his eyes, he had transfigured the beetle into a black plastic button with little legs on the side- technically it was a button because the legs didn’t move but it hadn’t been what he’d intended to do. Kurt had requested a second beetle, not touching the beetle with his hands, he’d successfully managed his second attempt.

Kurt had then assisted Neville, who was having trouble keeping his beetle still enough to cast the spell; he was already on his second beetle, having accidently crushed the first under his shoe. Professor McGonagall had always been quite strict with the clumsy boy but today it seemed like she’d scared him witless; Kurt’s first task had been to get him to calm down because he’d become frantic with nerves.

“Neville,” Kurt’s voice was level and soothing as he looked anywhere but at the bug, “breath, immobilise the beetle and then it can’t get away from you; half the battle won.”

The boy had given him a curt nod before furrowing his brow, “I can’t remember how to immobilise things.”

Kurt had given a small smile, “think in a linear fashion, it’ll come back to you.”

The boy scrunched up his brow whilst holding the beetle in his wand hand, it was Hermione on his other side who’d broken the silence between them, “What’s he doing?”

“Trying to remember.”

“What exactly-” the boy’s brow had relaxed and Kurt had gestured for Hermione to be silent and watch as he put the bug on the desk and immobilised it with a triumphant nod.

“Now you can just concentrate on your transfiguration.”

“Asking Longbottom to concentrate,” Draco chortled from his seat near the back as he regained some of his power by putting down another, “you’d have better luck waiting for snow in June.”

“I know a spell that can do that,” Hermione added before she could stop herself.

“With a head that size, you’d think you’d have some semblance of brains but alas,” Kurt had been surprised to note that it hadn’t been his voice that had delivered the jeer but rather Neville had come to his own defence. Kurt and Hermione had high-fived each of his hands with glee, the boy had taken that confidence and transfigured a beetle shell patterned button that he seemed quite proud of.

~0~

Kurt had left the potions dungeon with a spring in his step, he’d been working on his potioneering all of last year and that work had paid off in the form of a brew that, as Professor Snape put it, exceeded expectations. Their final lesson of the day was Defence Against the Dark Arts with Professor Lockhart. Though they had a newteacher,the class was still held in the same classroom that had once been used by the stuttering turban wearing professor but upon entering the large well lit classroom, Kurt knew that Lockhart had made it his own by redecorating it as a shrine to himself; there were painting of the man smiling and waving all over the room, along with press posters for his many books. The painting that caught Kurt’s eye was one of Lockhart painting a picture of himself, holding a picture of himself; Kurt thought the painting was trippy, he had never known anyone more vein than himself but it appeared Lockhart had him well beat in that department.

“My mum fancies Lockhart,” Ron whispered to Kurt as they seated themselves near the back of the class, “you missed her at Florish&Blotts, she went mental at the sight of him; fixing her hair and lowering her voice like a school girl.”

“I do not fuss about hair,” Hermione fiddled with her Alice band and raised her voice, “and I most certainly do not lower my voice.”

“You have me to fuss over your hair,” Kurt smacked her hand away from where she was fiddling.

It was then that Lockhart dramatically opened the office door at the front of the classroom, slamming it to gain the attention of the students who were engaged in their own conversations. The man flourished his lilac cloak as he floated down the stairs, he began to speak, “Hello second years and welcome to Gilderoy Lockhart’s Defence Against the Dark Arts. This will be a lesson like no other and it will be one you’ll tell your children about.”

There was round of applause from his admirers around the classroom, Kurt was horrified to see that Hermione was one of those fans, “As you all know, I’m an accomplished wizard who has faced numerous dangerous and life threatening situation that have earned me The Order of Merlin, Third Class and witch weekly’s most dazzling smile five years running,” the man flashed said smile and there was swoon from the class, “As I’m sure you couldn’t contain yourselves and have already read my bestselling autobiography _Magical Me_ which is currently celebrating its record breaking fifth week at the top of The Daily Prophet’s bestsellers list _,_ as such I’ve prepared a small pop quiz.”

Kurt looked over the quiz he was handed and was thankful for his eidetic memory as he scanned the questions on the test; the questions had neither the academic challenge nor the content benefit that he expected from a subject as important as Defence Against the Dark Arts but rather were personal questions posed by the author about himself. Kurt’s first thought was that he wanted so badly to boycott the entire test because it clearly wasn’t beneficial to his magical education and if he chose to stand against it, he would say as much but he wasn’t sure he could cast judgement on the entire syllabus on the events of one lesson and if he learned one thing from the quartet’s rash judgement of Snape the previous year, it was that you needed actual concrete evidence.

Kurt filled out the questionnaire quietly as best as he could without having consciously committed the information to memory; he had barely recalled the minuscular details, dates and titbits of information that the test required of him as he had not consciously committed them to memory. Kurt raised his hand and waved Lockhart over, “Professor, I finished your quiz.” Kurt gave a condescending smile, “I hope you don’t mind me asking but are there additional notes that you’ll be giving us because I noted that the books you prescribed aren’t very telling of how to practice the magic against the dark arts or even what magic to use.”

Lockhart rolled his eyes and gave a slow deep and equally condescending chuckle, “Fear not young friend of Harry Potter, I am plenty experienced with fighting the dark arts as is evident in all my written works and I will be relaying that knowledge to all of you in due course.”

Kurt raised a quizzical eyebrow trying to conceal his distrust of the man’s teaching abilities, “I just feel like a quiz that asks me what your favourite colour isn’t academically beneficial to me; I’m disputing neither your magical prowess nor your skill as writer, I’m simply voicing my scepticism about your choice of material.”

“You got that one right,” the curly haired man smiled, ignoring Kurt’s scepticisms and focussing on grading Kurt’s quiz instead, “you know your stuff…”

“Kurt,” he said his name but not as merrily as he usually did. Kurt kept his thought process linear, “I do know my stuff but I’m here to learn more, and I don’t mean the intimate details of your life.”

“You want to learn,” the man stepped behind his desk and lifted a covered cage with a devilish smile on his handsome face, “then learn you shall.”

He pulled off the periwinkle silk cover with a dramatic flourish but the class didn’t seem as impressed as he’d expected them to be. There were minute humanoid creatures in the cage, they had big glossy black eyed, sharp little teeth and electric blue skin.

“Cornish pixies?” Seamus Finnegan sounded very disappointed and uninterested by the man’s great announcement, the feeling seemed to reverberated through the classroom.

“Freshly caught cornish pixies,” the man countered feebly but to no avail. He seemed to have come to an internal decision and smiled once more, “try to catch them.”

The man swung open the cage door and the classroom was flooded with the tiny creatures, it seemed they had a destructive streak within them; they had dispersed about the classroom within moments and started to stir panic within the students. Gone now was Seamus’s smug laughter as he swung his copy of _Wandering with Werewolves_ about in an effort to keep the pixies away. Many students of both genders were letting out high pitched screams as they ran from the classroom but Neville had no such luck, a group of the pixies had him by the ears and robes and were lifting him to the ceiling.

“Help,” the plump faced boy cried as he swung his arms wildly, trying to swat the menacing creatures away, “Professor, help! Harry, Hermione, Kurt, anyone; help.”

“Why not me?” Ron asked in an angry huff, he pulled out his wand; the wand had always been shabby looking, with the unicorn tail hair sticking out all frayed at the end but today it looked especially feeble, bent at an interesting angle with spell-o-tape wrapped slightly off centre. Ron had stood with his wand at hand for a moment before shrugging and putting his wand away with a shrug, “I got nothing.”

Lockhart had his wand at the ready and was recited what sounded more like a limerick than a spell, “Pesky pixie,” a single pixie swooped down and snatched away his wand and began terrorising Lockhart’s many portraits with it.

Kurt had his wand at hand and began to stun the swarm that was carrying Neville to the ceiling it seemed for everyone he knocked to the ground two more took its place but had it not been for Hermione’s quick thinking his attempts would have been in vein; she had quit trying to beat them away with her copy of _Voyage with Vampires_ , and pointed her wand to the ceiling and used the immobilising charm to make their work easier. Kurt had risen to the occasion and ensured Neville’s descent from the rafters wasn’t a disaster.

It was only when the dust settled that Ron asked the question that was burning fresh in all their minds, “Where the hell is Lockhart?”

~0~

Kurt placed a stack of books on the seat beside himself on the stand seating that surrounded the quidditch pitch and flexed away a cramp in his tired arm as he hauled one open; he, Ron, Hermione and Harry’s one man fan club were watching the Gryffindors practice because it seemed to be the only time they saw Harry these days due to a rigorous practice schedule.

“What are you reading?” Hermione sounded almost panicky as she snapped the question at him with wide eyes.

Kurt replied in the soothing voice he usually reserved for Neville Longbottom’s many panic attacks, “Calm down, I’m reading about occlumency,” it didn’t seem to have the desired effect,“recreationally.”

“Occlumency?” Ron asked quizzically taking a now calm Hermione’s spot on the interrogation squad, “What’s that? What’s recreationally? Are we being tested on it?”

“You’re not being tested on this, its extra reading I’m doing,” Kurt reassured the panicked blond who obviously thought that it was something he hadn’t paid any mind in class.”

“Occlumency is a magical thought structuring skill,” Hermione answered the flame haired boy with a roll of her eyes before turning to Kurt,“you have an eidetic memory, why would you need occlumency?”

“A what memory?” Ron demanded.

“I don’t find your ignorance the least bit amusing.”

“Eidetic memory, it means that I have almost perfect recollection of things I commit to memory,” Kurt hated explaining simple things but he knew better than to say so because there were times when he didn’t know, “I don’t need it, I’m learning it so I can tech it to Neville.”

“You want to teach something to Neville?” Ron spluttered.

Kurt kicked the boy sitting two rows in front of him in the shoulder, “it’s a valuable skill that would be very beneficial to him, if he were able to organise his thoughts and keep them in order he would be able to think more clearly.”

“Then all he’d be is clumsy,” Hermione giggled but immediately looked to regret it as Kurt was about to give her a piece of his mind. Hermione startled him when she suddenly shot to her feet like a bullet pointing to the near distance, “Looks like trouble.”

Kurt followed her line of vision to where she was pointing her finger and his vision came to rest on the Slytherin quidditch team, “Why must it be trouble because it’s the Slytherins? If it were the Hufflepuffs you wouldn’t call it trouble.” Kurt was protesting yet he’d packed up his things and his feet were carrying him over to the commotion, he noted that the facial expressions of both teams were riddled with animosity, “Okay, maybe it is trouble.”

Kurt heard the tail end of Marcus Flint’s snarky comment about broomsticks, completely lost on him of course, but it seemed a big deal based onFred and George’s incensed reaction. The bit about the new seeker had drawn his attention to the smug face of Draco Malfoy, dressed in the house quidditch uniform and his head too large on his narrow shoulders; Kurt wondered if he’d ever grow into a head so bulbous.

“Well,” Hermione seemed to be more aware of where the conversation was going because she piped in at that very moment whilst Kurt was trying to assimilate the track of the dialog, “At least nobody on the Gryffindor squad had to buy their way on to the team, they all earned their place through merit.”

“Nobody asked you,” a vein was throbbing on Draco’s temple, a clear indication that Hermione had struck a nerve, as he spat the words between gritted teeth but making sure to draw out the final word for emphasis, “Mudblood.”

There was a roar of disapproval from every member of the Gryffindor squad, a few of the Slytherins looked uncomfortable with the language, whilst others seemed to be pleased with Draco’s choice of words but it was Ron who was first to make a move, “Eat slugs,” he announced pointing his bent wand at the blond haired boy but it seemed the jinx had gone wrong somehow as he was knocked back a couple of feet in a flash boogie green light.

As others fussed about a fallen Ron, it was Kurt who stepped forward to stand up to his housemates, “you ought to be ashamed using a prejudicial slur against your peer, or any one for that fact.” They didn’t pay him any mind as they guffawed at Ron as he regurgitated slug after slug and Collin snapped a couple of pictures. Kurt hadn’t thought too hard about it before he’d swung his arm and the back of his left hand connected with Draco’s cheek with a dry burning smack, when Kurt saw the boy’s face, it had his palm burnt into pale flesh of his cheek along with five slender fingers, “If I ever hear of you using that word again, I will end you. The same goes for the rest of you.”

Kurt recomposed himself before attempting to follow Harry, Hermione and Ron off the pitch but his path was blocked by Fred and George.

“You burnt him with your hand,” George held him by the shoulders and shook him senseless with a goofy smile on his face echoed by his twin brother, “Wicked.”

“Tell us how you did it,” Fred demanded turning Kurt towards himself with a sternly furrowed brow echoed again by the other brother, “teach us master.”

“I didn’t mean to,” Kurt argued defensively but couldn’t help but giggle at their nonstop bowing, “it just happened.”

“You sure it isn’t that wandless magic you learnt over the summer?” Fred pierced him with his eyes whilst George jabbed at him with a finger.

“Ron was telling anyone who would listen thesepast few weeks,” George added, completing his brother’s statement, “thinks it makes him cool by association.”

“Look,” Kurt shrugged out of their grip and started after his friends before shouting back, “We’ll talk some other time.”

“You can’t run from us forever,” they said in unison before turning to each other, scowling and speaking in chorus once more, “I was supposed to say that.”

Kurt had quickly found and followed the trail of slugs all the way to Hagrid’s hut, catching up in time to hold the door open for Ron- whose ailment had apparently hindered his ability to walk as he now had to be steadied upright by Harry and Hermione.

“Oh,” Hagrid chortled excitedly, “I was wondering when you four would come see me, I’m gonna set up some tea and rock cakes.” As the words were still fresh on his lips Ron regurgitated three slugs on Hagrid’s oversized boots, “Or not.”

“Excuse Ron,” Hermione fussed about the red haired boy as she led him into kitchen area of the hut, “he’s was unfortunate enough to have a rather putrid curse rebound on him.”

Kurt made himself comfortable next to Harry at the kitchen table as Hagrid handed Ron a large copper basin for his slugs, “Better out than in I guess,” nobody laughed at the joke except Hagrid himself, Kurt tried to smile supportively but he’s sure it appeared as a grimace, “who was he trying to curse?”

“Malfoy,” Harry said defiantly but quickly changed his tone to a defensive one, “he called Hermione a… I don’t know what it means.”

He turned to Hermione but she didn’t seem able to assimilate any words other than a distant shudder of the word as though reliving the moment, silenced by the gall of the blond boy to use such language in a school, “Mudblood.”

“He wouldn’t,” Hagrid gasped with eyes much larger than saucers, the black irises looked more like automobile tires.

Ron took a moment to raise his head from its current home at the brim of the copper mixing bowl to utter the words, “Oh yes he did,” followed by an onslaught of slugs that earned him a gentle pat on the back from Hagrid.

Harry spoke in a voice that was small and riddled with embarrassment, “What does it mean?” he didn’t dare repeat it out of fear he’d offend people all over again, “The word.”

“It’s a prejudicial slur for people like Hermione and I,” Kurt didn’t let Draco’s potty mouth get his blood boiling and was able to relay the information Ron had once imparted onto him, “it means dirty blood, it’s a derogatory term used by those who believe in pureblood supremacy against muggle born witches and wizards.”

“Hogwash is what it is,” Hagrid exclaimed indignantlyforcing Kurt to let out a startled breath, “Most wizards now days are half-blood or less and I can’t think of a spell Hermione or Kurt here couldn’t do.” Hagrid tilted his head and furrowed his brow, “Kurt, is there something different about you?”

“Not at all,” Kurt smiled sweetly and adjusted the tilt of his spectacles on the bridge of his nose.

“Hmmm,” the tension in his brow didn’t ease for a moment before he turned to Harry, “oh, I’ve something to show you. Not you Ron, you deslug to right where you are.”

The exceptionally large man led them out the back way and into his pumpkin patch that seemed to fit him well as it too was decked with unnaturally large produce, they wouldn’t have guessed that this was what he wanted to show them had it not been for Hagrid’s barely passable acapella drumroll and trumpets of arrival.

“Pumpkins?” Harry didn’t seem too taken by the vegetable patch, “your pumpkins are impressive and all but I’m not impressed.”

“I’ve been growing them myself,” Hagrid announced in a prideful tone, “they’re for the Halloween feast, I’ve been helping them along some.”

Harry’s eyes grew wide when the man nodded toward an old pink umbrella leaning against his hut, “but Hagrid, you aren’t allowed to do magic.”

“Wait,” Kurt suddenly realised something, “Wizards can enlarge food yet there’s still world hunger? You guys are all dicks.”

Hermione seemed to have latched onto a different part of the conversation and was looking back and forth from Harry to Hagrid, “Why isn’t he allowed to do magic? Why aren’t you allowed to do magic?” She asked the pair but she didn’t receive an answer.


	3. Chapter 3

“Wait a second,” Kurt was trying to wrap his head around what had become of their lives, “Harry is hearing voices now? What happened to being normal this year?”

“This from the person whose burning people’s faces off?” Hermione chuckled.

Ron was quick to come to his best friend’s defence, “He hasn’t heard the voice since, so he isn’t crazy.”

“So you're all going to talk about me like I’m not here?” Harry demanded the attention of his friends but they didn’t pay him much mind.

“He said the voice was out to kill and now we’re on our way to a death day party,” Hermione pointed out to Ron, “he seems to have some odd fixation with death if even the voices in his head are talking about it.”

“You should see the school councillor,” Kurt suggested as they navigated their way to the dungeons, “talking to a qualified adult about it is clearly the only way to resolve this.”

“Talk to an adult?” Ron exclaimed, almost biting Kurt’s head off in sheer revulsion, “they don’t send the criminally insane to St. Mungo’s, that’s a one way ticket to Azkaban.”

“Harry hasn’t committed any crimes,” Kurt countered in a sharp snappy tone, “they don’t send crazy people to Azkaban, I’m sure there’s some kind of psychiatric ward at St. Mungo’s.”

“You’re talking about having him committed,” Ron whined as though Kurt had been suggesting putting Harry to sleep, “this is Harry, he’s not crazy.”

Kurt countered in the same breath, “This is Harry, not just anyone survives an attack by a dark wizard as formidable as He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and walks away without any long lasting-”

“He has the scar!”

“It hasn’t healed, it’s a gash!” Kurt heard himself snap, “I was talking about repressed psychiatric trauma.”

Hermione cleared her throat loudly, “you two are being insensitive, Harry was probably just exhausted and his imagination got the better of him.”

“If that’s the case then a psychological evaluation wouldn’t hurt, Dr Rhodes has a PhD from oxford. Harry,” Kurt spoke firmly, “What do you think?”

“What do I think about what?” he spoke without looking up from his feet in a distant tone before shaking himself into the moment, “I agree with Hermione.”

“And what exactly did Hermione say?” Ron crossed his arms indignantly as he scowled at Hermione who was preening in the moment.

Harry stammered for a moment, “Hermione is logical, she probably made the most sense,” Kurt furrowed his brow and stared death over the rim of his spectacles, “I know Kurt is paranoid and would rush to assume the worst, Ron just wants to have fun.”

“He has you pegged with that paranoia,” Hermione giggled.

“How so?” Kurt raised a curious brow.

“Please share, why is it you’re still wearing your spectacles?” she smirked victoriously.

“Well, I had sand particles in my eye, and I’m waiting to see if it will progress into an eye infection because then I’d hate to aggravate it further or maybe I scratched my cornea and I’m slowly going blind,” Kurt stopped mid rant and shrugged as he mulled the honesty over, “I’ll accept.”

“Besides,” Harry rolled his eyes with a small smile, “Kurt, you hear voices all the time and you don’t see us committing you.”

“I do not hear voices,” Kurt squealed two octaves higher than usual before lowering his voice, “I hear voice, singular, and it is Finn’s voice not that of a disembodied murderous whisperer. Besides, telepathic links are common among siblings; it has even been noted to occur in muggles.”

“Harry’s right Kurt,” Ron nodded rapidly, “if anybody here’s crazy it’s you.”

“The paranoia and the voice, I can fess up to,” Kurt stopped before the great dungeon door, “but I am not crazy.”

Kurt swung the heavy doors open and he had to admit that he was quite disappointed; he’d always assumed that when the dead partied they woke… well, they woke the dead but instead there was only a low high pitched drone that had the faint semblance of Mozart. The room was crowded to the nines with ghosts, they were floating about in what appeared to be a waltz in time to the monotonous droning they were passing off as music.

“It is evident, death day parties aren’t celebrations,” Hermione quipped with a defeated sigh.

Nearly Headless Nick came over to greet them with a broad smile, “Harry, Ron, Hermione! So glad you could make it, oh you brought a spare.”

“Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, pleased to make your acquaintance.” He smiled broadly but it didn’t reach his eyes.

“Wicked setup Sir Nicolas,” Ron exclaimed upon noticing the decadently laid out buffet and making a b-line across the dance floor.

“Excuse Ron,” Kurt looked at the retreating redhead and rolled his eyes, “He’s yet to be on the receiving end of a lesson on manners.”

With the off key drone of Mozart in the background they strode across to the buffet table in front of which Ron had come to a sudden stop. As Kurt approached, the acrid stench of food that had long spoiled assaulted Kurt's sinuses. The buffet looked as though it had been laid weeks before the festivities by a too eager caterer, there were remains of what might once have been an impressive spread but it was now covered in an assortment of mould in all the colours of the rainbow and housed a caking of maggots beyond the healthy amount; the blue cheese had white veins peeping amongst the overgrowth of blue mould, the salmon was now a sickly sludge like grey that was festered with maggots, the leg of lamb looked to have re-grown its fleece.

“What on God’s green earth is wrong with this lot?” Ron whined as he fell to his knees in front of the buffet of spoiled food and buried his face in his hands.

“No need for the dramatics,” the Bloody Baron huffed at him, “Some of us don’t have the luxury of being alive.”

“Does that mean you have to punish those of us who do?” Ron bellowed thoughtlessly before realising to whom he was speaking, he cowered away and added a whispered, “Sir.”

“Can you even eat the food?,” Harry asked with a furrowed brow.

The Fat Friar floated through a grey looking roast beef with a longing sigh, “I can almost taste it, almost.”

 “So maturing the food must be so that the flavour is more pungent,” Hermione spoke as though she had missed the most obvious thing on the planet.

“Well,” the Fat Friar seemed defeated as he muttered the reply as he hungrily stared at the block of cheese, “it’s supposed to.”

“I’m going to take a stab in the dark and assume you loved food while you were alive,” Ron had his thinking face on but the Fat Friar only raised an unimpressed brow, “Well imagine how you would have felt if there was a buffet of food you couldn’t eat.”

The ghost’s round face turned dark and his eyes went wide, “That’s how I feel now!”

His bellows shook the room and drew the attention of the entire room to the four students standing opposite two horrified ghosts, the Bloody Baron wordlessly laid a comforting hand on the Friar’s shoulder before leading him off. The near silence that had washed over the room was broken by the bellowing of a distant foghorn; the attention of all the ghosts was immediately drawn to the group of five or so ghostly horseman that had burst through the dungeon’s closed doors with their heads in hand.

“Oh,” Nearly-headless Nick’s voice was oozing malice, “They made it.”

“Who are they exactly?” Kurt asked with his glossy eyes.

“The Headless Hunt,” Sir Nicolas mumbles back.

“I’m into it,” Kurt smiled broadly as they began a make shift game of polo, alternating the use of their heads as they boisterously stole the party, “Beheading just got sexy.”

“That should be me!” the Gryffindor house ghost spoke through gritted teeth in an angry voice.

“Surely not,” an elderly ghost with a horn hanging from his shoulder chortled as he shook the head from under his shoulder, “Pray tell Nicky, how is that when you don’t qualify?”

“IT’S HALF AN INCH!”

“It’s half an inch more than we require,” the unknown ghost shrugged his shoulders as he replaced his head in its rightful place.

“Do they realise how wrong that sounds?” Ron chuckled earning him a disapproving stare from Kurt and Hermione.

“It’s half an inch more than you’ll have,” Sir Nicolas smirked.

The other ghost’s jaw dropped with disgust, “Really Nick, you wanna do this now? In front of the kids?”

“No time like the present.”

“Well,” the man smirked back, “If memory serves that extra half an inch didn’t do you any favours.”

“You bastard.”

“Some might say it was wasted on you,” the ghost was tossing head from one hand to the other as he spoke, “And now, half inch is holding you back from the true joys of the afterlife.”

“You bitch!”

The ghost shrugged as his ghostly horse led him off, he turned his head a hundred and eighty to add an indignant “I tried to warn you.”

“Who was that?” Ron asked but got no reply as Nearly-headless Nick trudged off.

“Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore,” a high voice Kurt had spent his entire Hogwarts existence avoiding, “it’s always so much fun to watch their stand-offs, Nick is always humiliated.”

“Peeves,” Kurt tried to keep his voice steady, “What did I tell you would happen the next time we saw each other?”

“Kurt, I didn’t realize it was you but is Peeves not allowed to party?” the poltergeist narrowed queried with a smarmy half smile, Kurt narrowed his eyes and Peeves levitated backwards with wide-eyes.

“What did you do to poor Peeves?” Ron asked with wide eyes.

Kurt smiled broadly and adjusted his spectacles, “I simply told him a tall tale, with permission of course, that a certain bloody ancestor of mine would have him flayed and expelled from the school if he so much as looked at me.”

“Prevention or treatment?” Hermione giggled sweetly.

“Prevention.”

“Who’s that he’s pointing over here?” Harry’s eyes were cautiously wide as he eyed the pair.

When Hermione’s uttering of ‘Moaning Mertyl’ hit his ears, Kurt turned to Peeves but the Poltergeist was nowhere to be seen but Mertyl was floating toward them looking rather upset.

“Peeves told me all the terrible things you said about me,” Mertyl looked on the brink of tears as she hiccupped the words to Hermione, “I don’t know why you have to be so... awful to me.”

Her face glistened with silver tears as she spluttered her feelings, “Mertyl,” Hermione spoke consolingly, “We never said a thing against you.”

“Liar,” she screamed and once more the ghostly eyes were on the living, “I know your kind; giggling with boys, tucking your hair behind your ears and calling me...” she choked up, “Moaning Mertyl.”

“Have we ever?” Kurt mimicked Hermione's maternal stance, “if anything we were telling Ron and Harry that we wished you’d worn your hair out of you face so people could really appreciate your radiance.”

Harry nodded his agreement and when it looked the day was won, Ron chose that moment to add his two cents, “Fat chance with that skin but I could have left it at fat chance.”

Mertyl gasped deeply with a horrified look on her face that was echoed by Hermione and Kurt, “See, I knew it.”

Kurt watched her go flying out of the dungeon faster than his words could leave his throat, he turned to Ron with fire in his eyes, “Ronald Weasley!” his words shook the room like Mrs Weasley’s howler, “You are going to apologise to that girl before this night is through or so help me God you will live to regret those words.”

“Are you mad?” Ron scoffed, “She was like that when she came over.”

“Do we injure the wounded?” Hermione scolded.

“Like hell am I going to apologise?”

“It could be like hell,” He and Hermione added in chorus.

“Harry?” the dark haired boy chose his silences as wisely as he always did. Kurt pulled him to the door by the hood of his robes, “I’m coming, no need to manhandle me.”

“This probably won’t be the last time I hear those words,” Kurt chuckled.

Hermione gasped with a wicked smile on her narrow face, “Nobody likes a dirty girl.”

“Good thing I’m not a girl.”

“Has anyone ever told you two that you’re like a house on fire?” Harry chortled.

“We’re hot?” Hermione asked.

“You can’t stop looking at us?”

“Yes but no,” Harry was drawing out his words for suspense when his toothy grin suddenly fell and he looked about searchingly to see a deserted corridor, “The voice, do you guys here it? The one from Lockhart’s office.”

“Finish what sounds to be turning into an insult,” Kurt demanded angrily with throbbing ears, “We’re like a house on fire, how so?”

“Can you not hear that?”

“All I can hear is you evading my question.”

“I don’t hear anything Harry,” Hermione looked worried, “Are you sure you aren’t hearing things again.”

“I’m not imagining this!”

“Sure seems like it,” Ron added before the remaining three stared him into silence.

“What was that?” Kurt quipped.

Harry looked at Kurt, “it’s because you get on.”

 “Like a house on fire,” Kurt face palmed and then his mind cleared enough for him to hear a distant grumbling “I think I hear it, your stomach is making a strange-”

Harry broke into a run, “It’s not my stomach. Whatever it is, it’s out to kill.”

And for a moment as they went speeding off after Harry’s imaginary disembodied voice, taking the stairs two at a time, Kurt thought he heard words too but immediately dismissed. When they came to the second floor landing the floors were flooded, “I hope this out of a tap.”

“I second the motion,” Hermione frowned as she held her robes off the ground.

Kurt and Harry went around the corner toward the source of the flooding and were greeted by a horrific sight; there were large bloody letters that said:

 ‘THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.’

And beside them was Filch’s cat, Mrs Norris, hanging from a sconce by her tail looking as stiff as though stuffed. Kurt surveyed the room and his eyes fell on the third eyesore of the corridor, a stone statue of Peeves looking mortified; Kurt let out a loud high pitched wail that caused his friends to cover their ears.

“The hell was that?” Ron demanded

“Somebody had scream or they’ll think we did it,” Hermione answered for him as he examined the statue closely, only the man was stone but his clothes were as they’d been at the death day party. As he examined the situation Ron noticed a line of spiders heading out the window that earned the group a blood curdling scream from the red-haired boy, the second of the night.

The Ravenclaws were first to arrive on the scene and it appeared rather suspect; Harry was standing near Mrs Norris with his hand extended toward her, Kurt peering curiously at Peeves whilst Ron had latched onto Hermione for dear life as he tried not to look at the spiders and she looked from one of her friends to the next. Rather quickly the whole school had filled the corridor and was studying the scene before them.

It was Filch who spoke first, pushing students out of his way as he fought his way to the front of the crowd looking down at the floor, “Great another mess for me to clean,” he suddenly stilled as his eyes rested on the reflection of his cat hanging from the sconce, “That’s my cat. Potter, you killed my cat!”

“I didn’t do this,” Harry pleaded as the man grabbed him roughly by the scruff of his neck.

“I’m going to kill you,” Filch screamed angrily, “you dare put... put your grubby hands on Mrs Norris.”

“It wasn’t Harry!” Kurt heard his voice echo angrily over the murmurs but didn’t remember speaking the words.

Filch and the rest of the school turned to see Kurt and the statue of peeves properly for the first time, “You done in Peeves too, can’t say I’ll miss him.”

“He wasn’t even in the first part of this fic.”

In the chaos he heard Draco’s voice ring true over the others as he’d finally made it to the front where he could see, “Enemies of the heir beware, you’ll be next mudbloods.”

“Clear the way, I’m a prefect.” A second voice rang over the others, stifling the gasps solicited by Draco’s comments; the blond boy smirked at Kurt knowing the boy couldn’t get to him for that last comment. Percy Weasley turned to get the headmaster at the sight of the quartet but it seems he’d been long pre-empted as Professor Dumbledore materialized looking very worried.

“Prefects,” the headmaster’s voice echoed off the walls with a surety that the more experienced eye saw wasn’t present in his face, “Take your houses back to their dorms.”

“You three stay,” Professor McGonagall stopped them as they retreated.

“There are four of us,” Hermione tilted her head condescendingly, “Which one of us can leave?”

“Mr Weasley,” Professor McGonagall’s eyebrows almost touched her hair, “I didn’t notice you there, I guess you can stay too.”

“Thank you Hermione,” Ron scowled.

“Why is it that whenever there is trouble, you four are always at the scene of the crime?”

“Because they done it!” Filch snivelled loudly, “It’s those Potters, both of them! They killed my cat and they killed Peeves.”

“I’m offended by what you’re insinuating,” Kurt proclaimed.

“They done it headmaster,” Filch argued avidly, “they done it because I’m a squib.”

“What’s a squib?” Harry asked softly.

“Not the time or the place sweetheart,” Hermione clasped her hand over his mouth.

“They aren’t dead,” Professor Dumbledore proclaimed but it didn’t appear to ease his burdens but rather served to exacerbate them, “She’s been petrified.”

“I thought as much,” Lockhart smiled and flicked a curl out of his face, “Pity I wasn’t around, I know just the counter-curse that might have spared them.”

“Counter-curse, hey?” Snape drawled with a slightly arched brow, “And what curse can do something like this?”

Kurt and Hermione’s hands shot up but they were swiftly pulled down by Harry with a whisper of ‘Not the time or the place’.

“I don’t care how they did it!” Filch screeched, “Just wanna see some punishment.”

Snape narrowed his eyes and swept them across the awkward quartet, “I think punishment would be out of order, it appears as though Potter and friends were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

“Professor Snape gets this,” Kurt added releasing a breath he’d been holding too long, “There I was minding my own business when-”

“However,” the dark haired man interrupted, “it is curious that none of you were seen at dinner.”

“We were at Nearly-headless Nick’s death day party,” Harry said defensively removing Hermione’s hand from over his mouth.

“We were on our way to bed,” Hermione added cautiously.

“Off to bed without dinner?” Snape arched a brow with a sideways smirk, “Because if memory serves ghost don’t serve food fit for human consumption at their parties.”

“After seeing food like that,” Ron grumbled, “Eating was the last thing on our minds.”

“And you Mr Hummel,” Professor McGonagall asked with pursed lips and a disapproving looks directed at Professor Snape, “A little far from the Slytherin Dungeon aren’t we?”

“We’re not exactly at Gryffindor Tower either but if you must know, I was escorting Ron to Mertyl’s bathroom because he owes her an apology.”

Professor McGonagall looked personally affronted by Kurt’s reply and he was well aware how rude he had been but she didn’t need to single him out as a Slytherin either; as such her next question seemed snarkier than usual, “Isn’t that a girls lavatory?”

“That’s what Hermione was for.”

“Innocent until proven guilty,” Professor Dumbledore said to the competing head of houses before turning to the rest of the staff, “Argus, Mrs Norris’s condition is reversible we will get mandrakes and see that she is depetrified but in the mean time Professor Sprout’s growth of Mandrakes must take precedence as a precaution. I urge the rest of you to go forward with caution though I pray it is not as I fear.”

~0~

The rumour mill had not been kind, in the short time since the writing on the walls had appeared a number of theories had started circulating: a large group of Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and Gryffindors had banded together against Kurt in next to no time; the theory was that Kurt had opened the Chamber of Secrets in a desperate attempt to get attention and to exact revenge on his enemies, he had apparently attacked Peeves because of their quarrel at the party and Mrs Norris to ensure there were no witnesses. A second large group that was predominantly Slytherins had begun spreading the inverse; they claimed Harry had done in Mrs Norris because he and Filch were at odds, he had then gone after Peeves because he had seen too much. The third rumour was the most malicious and easiest to believe; the quartet was sending a message to their enemies and intended to pick them off one by one.

Kurt looked at the length of empty bench space on either side of the quartet in the front of their history of magic class, for the first time he suspected that it wasn’t because of Professor Binns, “I can’t believe I have to deal with this,” Kurt turned to the crowded benches behind them, “Do they seriously think we’re going to attack somebody who sits next to us?”

“Who knows what they think,” Finn chortled as he gave Kurt a wet willy.

“Finn!” Kurt boomed at his brother who was pretending to be reading his textbook with a goofy smile.

“Please don’t petrify me,” the boy jibed at him.

“I’m not even going to dignify that with a response,” Kurt scowled at his brother, “but on the other hand, you are aware that I can set you on fire with a certain look. Also, I’m going to need my copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ back before Hermione gets frown lines or worse, loses her hair.”

“I’ll bring it arou-”

“If you're quite done Mr Hummel,” Professor Binns scowled, “My lesson has been well underway for a good four minutes and thirty-eight seconds.”

“I’m sorry but if makes you feel any better it was a history related conversation,” Finn spoke before Kurt could muster an appropriate response, “Kurt wants his copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ so that he can read up on the Chamber of Secrets, can you tell us anything about it.”

The elderly ghost looked shocked, probably that Finn was awake in his class, but he finally spluttered a reply, “The Chamber of Secrets is a myth and this subject is based on facts, so I am sorry but that simply won’t do.”

“But sir,” Hermione was waving her hand in the air as she spoke, “the Chamber of Secrets is a medieval folk tale and retelling it might help us better understand the lives that people lived at that time and the moral convictions that drove them, is that not the point of history?”

Simply mentioning the writing on the wall had piqued the interest of every student present, Professor Binns knew immediately that there was no getting out of this one, “Very Well.” He adjusted his spectacles and let out a tired sigh, “Hogwarts was founded over a thousand years ago by the four brightest witches of the age; Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin.”

“Salazar,” Finn sniggered beside him.

“Now at the time each of the founders had an idea of how they wanted the school to be run; Gryffindor wanted to teach only those who displayed potential for bravery, Ravenclaw wanted to teach only those who possessed great intellect, Slytherin wanted to teach only the cunning and ambitious, whilst Hufflepuff’s superior wisdom knew that they should teach all those who wanted to learn.” Kurt could see the Hufflepuffs high-fiving about the classroom, “their next admission toil came from Slytherin; he believed that magical learning should be kept in all magical families- purebloods- but the other founders did not agree. Slytherin took that as a personal affront and decided to leave the school, legend says that before leaving the school he built a chamber and inside concealed a monster that could only be controlled by his true heir, a monster that would purge the school of all muggle born students.” Both Kurt and Hermione’s hands shot into the air the moment the professor stopped talking, “Yes, Miss...”

“Granger,” Hermione shot Kurt a triumphant look before focussing on her question, “What monster is rumoured to be in the chamber?”

“The legend doesn’t tell us this much but I assure you, both during and before my tenure at this school the school was searched and no such chamber was found.”

“Professor,” Kurt was waving his arm frantically in the air.

“That’s enough on that,” the man crossed his ghostly arms over his skeletal frame, “I will be taking no more questions.”

“But Professor,” Kurt whined.

“No more,” the man’s voice shook the classroom, “Little Miss, you might not be aware of this but I am hired to teach HISTORY OF MAGIC not to tell stories. Next you’ll want me to read you _The Tales of Beedle the Bard_.”

“That’s not at all what I was saying,” Kurt tried to argue his point, “I don’t wish to hear anymore of the fairytale, I actually want to ask about the historical facts that surround the legend.”

“Is it your desire to insight fear in your peers?”

“All Day, Every Day.”

“You’re insolence and back talk will not be tolerated in this classroom!” the man looked thoroughly ruffled but suddenly recomposed himself with a smile, “Let’s make a deal; you ask your question and I give you detention, or you remain silent and I forgive this transgression.”

“In the past have there ever been claims that the chamber of secrets was opened?” Kurt asked with an exasperated gasp.

“Never claims but rather erroneous rumours,” the enchanted pair of hands that did all of Professor Binns’s physical work handed Kurt a detention slip before returning to its normal duty as a scribe on the board, “Now, open your textbooks to page one hundred and fifteen before my lesson is highjacked again.”

“Kurt,” Finn whispered with wide eyes, “I thought you promised Burt you’d cut down on the detentions.”

“I wouldn’t have had to promise anything if you hadn’t mentioned it.”

“I said I was sorry,” the boy whined.

“Water under the bridge,” Kurt waved off the boy’s desperate pleas for forgiveness, “Professor Binns is always confused about who I am, note that the detention slip is for Ruddy.”

“Who is Ruddy?” Finn furrowed his brow.

Kurt shrugged, “Damned if I know.”

The lesson didn’t go on for much longer after that, and no sooner was it over that Kurt took off from the History of Magic classroom as fast as his feet would carry him, “Kurt, where are we off to?”

Kurt stopped in his tracks when he noticed that his brother was following him down the corridor, “I’m on my way to the library but I just realised that you have my copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_.”

“Why do you need that?”

“Research.”

Finn put his hands on his hips, “Aren’t you going to elaborate?”

“No,” Kurt pulled his brother along the corridors toward the library, “Not here at least.”

“Look,” Finn stopped and scratched his head, “I just remembered that I’m supposed to be meeting Cedric and the guys for quidditch practice, also I’m not into this Nancy Drew stuff you guys are always doing.”

“How’s about I do the ‘Nancy Drew’ stuff, you go off to your little practice and then you meet me in the library when you're done?” Kurt didn’t wait for a counter offer, choosing instead to blow Finn a kiss from the bottom of the stairs across the foyer.

~0~

Kurt was settling in front of his pot for double Herbology when he felt a tugging on his sleeve, a note was stuffed into his hands and he promptly unfolded it:

‘Where have you been? I need to talk to you, write me back.’

And it was signed ‘Hermione J. Granger’.

“I’m right next to you,” Kurt whispered in her ear, “I could just talk to you.”

“Where have you been?” she hissed in his ear.

“The library,” Kurt said it as though it was the most obvious answer one might consider but because they were who they were it was, “I was doing research.”

“Research on what exactly?” Hermione furrowed her brow.

“The Chamber of Secrets, I’m trying to formulate theories,” Kurt checked her for a fever, “Are you alright?”

“We’re pursuing Ron’s theory,” Hermione sighed in defeat, “And it’s not very good but Harry was on his side because he claims we under value his ideas and you weren’t around to vote. It involves breaking more than a hundred school rules.”

“How?”

“We’re brewing polyjuice,” she gritted his teeth, “he thinks Draco’s the heir and recons he won’t tell you so we’re going under cover.”

“Polyjuice potion takes forever to brew and where are we supposed to get the rare ingredients?” Kurt scowled across the class to where Ron and Harry were standing beside the Hufflepuff boys.

“We were going to steal it from Snape’s store room.”

Kurt’s eyes went wide, “You have lost your minds, Snape is a very capable wizard and probably has some magical security system.”

“We haven’t got any other options at this point,” Kurt gave Hermione a knowing look that she knew all too well, “You know something, what do you know? Is it something you learnt in the library?”

“No,” Kurt smiled devilishly, “I learnt next to nothing in the library.”

“Then what?” she raised her bushy brows angrily, “Out with it this instance.”

“I have polyjuice,” Kurt’s smile grew as Hermione’s pupils grew to the size of dinner plates and her jaw went slack, “I got it Japan, at that street market.”

“Shut up.”

“I bought it out of curiosity,” Kurt shrugged innocently, “but I never got a chance to use it.”

“Well, I guess I just got a month of my life back,” she smiled broadly.

“We can spend it working on those eyebrows,” he pursed his lips triumphantly.

“What’s wrong with my eyebrows?” Hermione’s hands shot up to her forehead defensively.

“So Ron and Harry think Draco is the Heir of Slytherin,” Kurt diverted the conversation away from what was clearly a touchy subject, “How did they come to that conclusion.”

“They seem to think he’s the only one who is an adamant believer pure-blood supremacy at this school,” Hermione didn’t seem the least bit impressed by their skills of deduction, “I tried to tell them that he didn’t have the balls for something like this but the fact that he read the writing on the walls out aloud had Ron sold.”

“If only he had a brain,” they added in chorus with a defeated sigh.


	4. Chapter 4

“Morning,” Kurt smiled sweetly at his friends as slid into the bench beside Harry.

“Kurt,” Ron’s coffee dribbled down his chin as he spoke, “We haven’t seen you in ages, we thought you’d transferred schools.”

“I considered it,” Kurt scrunched his nose at the breakfast spread and elected to eat his toast dry, “there’s a monster somewhere nobody knows that’s out to kill me, my best friend and my brother... other people too.”

“Surely you're overreacting,” Harry raised a quizzical brow.

“Overreacting?” Kurt took a deep breath, “Which part of kill don’t you understand?”

“Voldemort wanted to kill me but I still went after the stone because it was right thing to do,” Harry countered.

“You are an idiot,” Kurt pointed at the point perfectly between his eyes, “Fuck the right thing to do, fuck Voldemort, fuck the chamber of secrets and who the fuck is that staring at me?”

They all followed his extended finger to the growling first year girl, “That’s my sister!” Ron exclaimed defensively before turning to her and whispering quite loudly, “Ginny stop it, you're being weird.”

“Wait a minute, ignore the weirdo and backtrack just a second; What does this rant mean?” Neville was shocked by what Kurt was saying, “are you leaving?”

“Hell no,” Kurt countered with a giggle, “I couldn’t find anywhere better to go, I’d hate to disadvantage myself scholastically by trying a new medium of instruction this late in my scholastic career; mostly I just had to get that off my chest.”

“So where have you been?” Ron demanded.

“The library,” Kurt rolled his eyes, “if you have to ask you’ll never know, I was checking the newspaper records for attacks in the school.”

“And?” Harry pressed.

“Nothing,” Kurt shrugged, “but between teaching Neville Occlumency and my normal school load I haven’t gotten very far, I’ve only gone back thirty-five years.”

“You went back thirty-five years in a week?” Ron sprayed his scrambled eggs all over himself.

“In two week,” Kurt hung his head, “I’ll do better now that I’m done with my reading for the year.”

“How are you done?” Ron almost choked on his scone, “It’s November!”

“I’m sorry that I am moving so slowly but all my summer reading had to move into the year.”

“Kurt,” Harry's voice was reassuring, “nobody is criticizing you, everyone’s impressed.”

“I haven’t even started looking into the monster,” Kurt mumbled to himself, “but now that Neville and I are almost done I can move on to that.”

“We’re done?”

“Stunning spell?”

“Stupify,” Neville’s eyes grew wide, “I knew that!”

“Now we just have to work on how you're going to hone the skill on your own.” Kurt was scanning the room for Hermione when his gaze fell on a horrific monstrosity, “Oh god.”

“It’s bad isn’t it?” Hermione scowled and let out a defeated sigh.

The boys sniggered, “What happened to you?”

“Lavender asked if she could braid my hair into pigtails like hers,” Hermione buried her head in her hands, “And then when she’d done one side... she said it was too thick... and left me like that.”

“So you tried to do the other side?”

“Yes,” Hermione sobbed violently into her hands, “I couldn’t... I couldn’t get it undone.”

“Why...” Kurt’s voice broke as he suppressed a laugh, “Why are there three? And what’s the story with the unbraided patch?”

“I...” Hermione’s answer was muffled by her crying into her hands.

“I can’t understand you when you're crying,” Kurt handed her a pink Kleenex.

She pulled herself toward herself and took a deep clearing breath, “Please say you can help me look exponentially better, not just than I do at this moment but than ever just to spite her and the rest of those giggling bitches.”

“Language Hermione,” Ron’s jaw dropped.

“If you’ll excuse us,” Kurt ushered Hermione out of the great hall and out toward the ladies lavatory. As soon as they were securely within the sanctuary of Mertyl’s bathroom Kurt looked deep into Hermione’s eyes, “What were you and Lavender discussing as she worked on your hair?”

Hermione looked confused by the question, “nothing important, she asked me some about you and about Harry.”

“Oh Hermione,” Mertyl smiled broadly, looking at the second year girl’s dishevelled hair, “You look terrible.”

“Really Mertyl?” she shrugged and floated off, Kurt turned to Hermione and started working on her hair, “Just us?”

“Then she asked about Ron but then our conversation was cut short by her declaration that my hair wasn’t particularly malleable,” Hermione wasn’t sure of the importance of this information as Kurt was unbraiding her hair.

“She is so thirsty!”

“What?”

“She was testing you,” Kurt levelled with her as he brushed her bushy hair back into standard formation, “she wanted to see if you were interested in any of the three of us but because clearly you aren’t into any of us her thought process can’t fathom the idea of exclusively having male friends and so she assumed that because you weren’t interested in Harry and I, then-”

“Then I was into Ron?” Hermione scrunched up her face, “Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick”

“She is obviously into him and views your friendship as threat,” Kurt smiled devilishly.

Hermione matched his expression, “I feel like we should play from this little event.”

“She did set the rules,” Kurt shrugged.

Suddenly the red haired first year who’d been staring at him earlier stormed into the bathroom with her diary in hand but stopped dead in her tracks when she spotted the pair, “What are you doing here?”

“Who are you to ask us what we’re doing in a girls bathroom?” Kurt demanded. She turned on her heals and headed out of the bathroom, Kurt looked at Hermione quizzically, “She is so weird.”

“Hey,” Hermione squealed, “We’re weird.”

Kurt gave it a moment’s thought, “Yea but we’re weird together, what’s her name again?”

“Ginny Weasley.”

“Should we be friends with her?”

“I’m not sure if she’s our cup of tea,” Hermione shook her head, “ouch.”

“If you held still then we wouldn’t have a problem, speak with your mouth not your head,” Kurt carried on working with her hair, “Go on, tell me more.”

“Well, she doesn’t seem very bright,” Hermione giggled, “Clearly the Weasley gene pool is a wasting asset.”

“Are you telling me Fred and George got the last of the good stuff?”

“All she ever does sit there and stare at Harry,” Hermione let out a groan, “Do you know how hard it is to scheme, plan and play Nancy Drew when you're being watched by a lost little girl.”

“Speaking of Nancy Drew,” Kurt didn’t know when Finn’s quip had become official lingo but went with it none the less, “When are we speaking to Draco?”

“Harry suggested during the break which I thought was a good idea.”

“Draco’s a mommy’s boy,” Kurt pointed out to her, “He’s going home over the break and so am I.”

“We’ll have to do it before the break,” Hermione started thinking hard, “What are you working on because we need a sleeping draft to get rid of the people we’re impersonating, we need to get Slytherin robes and...”

“Don’t worry,” Kurt smiled and patted her head reassuringly, “I’ll delegate.”

“And how exactly are you going to do that?”

Kurt smiled and turned her to the mirror, “I have my ways.”

~0~

Kurt loved to watch disasters but he had to rip himself away from Lockhart and Harry’s re-enactment of _A Voyage with Vampires_ to deal with business, he tapped Finn on the shoulder, “Sweetheart, I’m going to need a favour.”

“Anything.”

“I’m going to need a powerful sleeping draft,” Kurt gave his brother a toothy grin, “disguise as something tempting.”

“Nancy Drew?” the boy furrowed his brow.

“Nancy Drew.”

“I’m guessing my discretion is key?” Kurt nodded, “How are you going to make it worth my while.”

“Oh, it’ll be worth your while when Christmas comes around,” Kurt smiled devilishly, “I know exactly what you want.”

“oh,” Finn mockingly let his jaw go slack and matched Kurt’s tone as he spoke, “and tell me how you came by such information.”

“Oh sweetheart,” Kurt leaned in close and whispered the last few words, “I’m a teenage boy too.”

“Preteen,” Finn smiled broadly.

~0~

“Neville,” Kurt smiled at the round faced boy as he pulled him aside before they headed in for lunch, “Can I have a moment.”

“A... moment?”

“How’s your grandmother?” Kurt pursed his lips, “is she well?”

“I... think so,” Neville scratched his head nervously.

“Don’t be nervous,” Kurt put a reassuring hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I need your help.”

“I’ll do anything I can to help,” Neville was taking deep steadying breaths as he nodded along with his words.

“I was almost expelled for slapping Draco Malfoy,” Kurt smiled at the memory, “my ass was saved by one voice of reason, his mother seems to recognise the jackass that he is. The Hogwarts Board of Governors is not our friend and my research has led me to discover the only power that can overturn any of their rulings and I need your help making them effective.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Let me help you understand,” Kurt levelled with the blue eyed boy, “The Board of Trustees has power because they keep the school running with their donations, the problem right now is that the Board of Trustees is kind of defunct; if we are to make this school our own then we need to change that.”

“Wait, when did we decide we were taking this school?” Neville raised a quizzical brow, “Not important. What do you need me to do?”

“The Board of Trustees is made up of the schools eight most generous contributors,” Kurt smiled broadly, “We need to out bid them.”

“What?”

“I wrote my parent and grandparents a very touching letter telling them I needed a lot of money to buy some happiness,” Kurt  bowed his head, “They were sceptical but I won out. Now, all I need are some butts to fill the seats and I want your Grandmother in one of my seats.”

“Okay...”

“Send this to her,” Kurt pinched the boys cheek.

“Okay, I’m on it.”

“Thank you Love.”

~0~

Kurt kept his features schooled as he walked through the throngs of fourth year students and pointed to the pair of he was looking to talk to, gesturing to be followed.

“Kurt,” Fred smirked.

“We haven’t been seeing you around,” George shook his head.

“But now,” Fred hung his hands, “here you are.”

George leaned forward, “Standing before us.”

“We thinks you want something,” they said in chorus.

“How are my favourite...” Kurt ran through his mind for an ending to that statement, “red-heads?”

“Hmm,” Fred raised a brow.

George pursed his lips, “Weak.”

“I know I haven’t been playing by the rules-”

George interrupted him, “playing by the rules?”

“You’ve been petrifying your enemies,” Fred wagged a disappointed finger.

“And you didn’t ask for a list of recommendations.”

“We have enemies too,” Fred went on.

“Enemies we want gone,” George smiled.

“Enemies like Marcus Flint.”

“Or pretty boy Cedric Diggory.”

Kurt raised his hands to call for silence, “I would love to hear the entire list of your enemies but some other time.”

“So,” George raised a brow.

Fred crossed his arms, “To what do we owe this pleasure.”

“I need favour,” Kurt waited for more banter but it didn’t come, “On Sunday at the end of dinner I need for you to cause a large distraction that will last for all of ten minutes.”

“And what do we get out of it?” they said in chorus.

“What do you want?”

“You’ll owe us one,” they agreed.

Kurt turned to leave but stopped short and handed the twins an envelope from his personal stationary, “Won’t you send this to your mother for me.”

~0~

Kurt sat beside Hermione among their thinning group of friends in the back row of their Friday morning Charms lesson and leaned in toward her, “We’re taking the school.”

“And where exactly are we taking it?” Hermione whispered back.

“Really.”

“Like a hostile takeover?” Hermione whispered her words but that didn’t detract from her tone of surprise, “And who do you suppose replacing Dumbledore with?”

“This goes much higher than the headmaster,” Kurt smiled sweetly, “we’re seizing the power to veto any board decisions.”

“Why are we doing that?” Hermione raised a brow, “that just sounds like extra work.”

Kurt brushed off the suggestion of it being unnecessary work, “All I had to do was write a couple of letters delegating the task to my parents.”

“I don’t understand,” Hermione looked mortified to be saying the words, “How can your muggle parents seize Hogwarts, they can’t even see it.”

“There’s a Board of Trustees that has been defunct for almost a century,” Kurt leaned in and smiled as he revealed the true genius of his idea, “It used to be made up of all the wealthy pure-blood families like the Blacks and Malfoys. The board served to subsidise cost during the various renovations of Hogwarts but at some point the schools costs peaked and the board was no longer necessary. My research has led me to believe that the board was never officially dismantled, this is where it gets good, you can oust a member of the board by out bidding them by more than fifty percent and I have a record of the last few bids.”

“And what makes you think you can afford the entire board?”

“There are only eight seats and the clause didn’t account for one thing,” Kurt paused dramatically to stir Hermione's suspicions.

“Inflation?”

“All the donations are like ten galleons,” Kurt giggled lightly, “I had to ask my grandparents for a thousand pounds to buy a school.”

“But that’s only one bid,” Hermione pointed out to him, “As generous as it may be compared to what they got at the time, it only gets you one seat.”

Kurt pursed his lips, “Do you remember the envelope I asked you to send to your parents?” Hermione nodded, “I’m trying to make for a free and democratic board so I sent out a few invitations to seat fillers.”

“Seat fillers?”

“Mrs Longbottom, Mrs Weasley, Mr Diggory, Ms Bones-”

“Ms Bones?”  Hermione queried, “like Susan Bones?”

“Yes,” Kurt smiled, “I read about her in the Daily Prophet, she’s a huge official at the Ministry of Magic.”

“Do you think it’s wise to involve the ministry?”

“We need a voice of reason,” Kurt raised a questioning brow.

“Who else is on the list?”

“Dr Granger, Mrs Patil, my dad Mr Hummel and...” Kurt trailed off, “That’s where it gets tricky.”

“Surely we know more than seven people,” Hermione furrowed her brow.

“We do,” Kurt cracked his neck, “the problem is that Ravenclaw is underrepresented, we don’t like them but the point of this venture is to create a well rounded board unlike the Board of Governors; I want decisions vetoed because it’s the right thing to do, not because I have the board in my pocket.”

“So what do you need me to do,” Hermione volunteered her services as always.

Kurt chewed his lip, “We need to be social.”

“Oh god no,” Hermione grimaced, “I think I just burst an ovary thinking about it.”

“I know the feeling.”

“But do share love,” Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears, “how did you come to possess this knowledge?”

Kurt smiled, “You know me, I get wind of a fresh trail and I don’t let it go.”

“And where did you get wind of this?”

“Harry,” Hermione didn’t seem illuminated, “he mentioned that Hagrid couldn’t do magic, so I followed it to discover that there were only two reasons why one might not be allowed to do magic; if one is expelled from Hogwarts prior to sitting for their OWLs then they are to have their wand destroyed and are forbidden to do magic.”

Kurt paused to tease Hermione but she was not having it this time, “Go on, what’s the other reason?”

“If you’re incarcerated in Azkaban for a second level crime or higher,” Kurt looked distressed by what he was saying.

“You don’t think Hagrid-”

“No,” he winced, “but it means he did something very wrong.”

“Have you told Harry?” Hermione looked very worried.

Kurt shook his head solemnly, “I didn’t want to distress him with quidditch on Saturday, you know how much it means to him.”

“I hope we haven’t made a grave mistake trusting in Hagrid.”

~0~

Kurt had been walking around with the final letter in his handbag for the good part of a week and it was burning a hole in his Burkin. Even whilst sitting in close proximity to Cedric Diggory in the Hufflepuff box, the only thing on his mind was the letter. Ron on the other hand was torn, he didn’t know which excited him more- the quidditch match or the free food but based on his gusto for both it was evidently a close race; Kurt had brought Ron along, not because they were friends which they are, but because Hermione had an appoint with her orthodontist and he didn’t want to be the odd one out.

“Kurt,” Cedric’s voice was low as he spoke close to the boy’s ear, “tell me something about your summer, why all the secrecy?”

“I’m sure you wouldn’t believe me if I told you,” Kurt smiled, trying to suppress the red tinge creeping up his neck.

“Try me.”

“Well,” Kurt giggled nervously before giving himself a pep talk, “Grand Master Iroh’s eccentricities are vast and many. One event that sticks out was the night before we closed; he came into each of our tents to wake us:

...

“Get up losers!” Kurt stirred from his death like slumber and groggily got out of his sleeping quarters under the assumption that morning had come but was greeted by the night sky, a sight he’d come to cherish, “we’re going to ride dragons.”

Kurt’s heart had skipped a beat and caught in his throat as the other students cheered excitedly, “this is some kind of joke,” Kurt had the entire camp’s attention as he shook his head, “Dragon’s are wizard killers, they are dangerous and it would be reckless to think that we can ride them.”

“Oh look,” one of the older teenagers cooed at him, “Ickle-Kurty-Kins is afraid.”

A second voice rang true over the throngs of laughter, “It’s past his bed time, let him go back to his blanky.”

“He might have nightmares if he sees dragons,” the third and final teen had chortled, “then he might wet his bed.”

Kurt turned crimson and his pride got the better of him, “Don’t be foolish enough to confuse my wisdom for fear.” Kurt stomped his bunny slippers indignantly, “fine, you want to ride dragons? I’ll show you how to ride a dragon.”

Kurt had gone into his tent for a moment and emerged dressed in his equestrian gear with a smug smile on his face, masking the fear that was festering within. As he walked in time with the group he scolded himself for being foolish enough to be baited by the group of older kids but they had banded together against him from day one and he had reached the breaking point, they had this idea that he was brilliant for his age and they were wrong because he was just plain brilliant.

Kurt had stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the beast; it was larger than a car, closer to the size of a bus or medium sized plane with a wingspan that matched that of a 747 without much effort. Kurt was taken aback because his single prior encounter with a dragon had led him to believe they must not grow that large because this one was exponentially bigger than Norbit.

“In order to mount the beast, you will need to have your wand at hand,” Iroh produced his own wand, a hooked mottled short grey object, “you need to maintain eye contact at all times, this is an exercise in domination. Flagellum.” His wand extended itself to a slick black leather whip, he cracked it loudly in the air, “inflamarae.” The whip caught fire in the air with the sound of the second crack and the dragon bowed its head. Kurt watched the stubby balding man approached the beast, cracking his whip in the air once more before mounting at the nape of the Dragons neck, “Tickle to arouse. It’s like lion taming, you have to confuse it long enough to mount and then it’s just like riding a horse.”

Kurt was grateful that it was not like flying as he had a grave fear of that, but regardless he knew better than to let his fear show for the sake of hubris, he took a deep breath before raising his hand, “Grand Master Iroh,” He called after the man flying lazy circles above their heads, “Might I volunteer to go first.”

“Of course Kurt but I’ve one more thing to show you,” He flew high in the air and looked down out them intensely, “Dracarys.”

Kurt regretted his boldness as he watched, trembling, as the large dragon breathed a large plume of black flames, “What have I got myself into?”

“Nothing to fear,” one of the older kids put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, “it’s just a dragon.”

Kurt turned with wide eyes, “maybe in Iran it’s just a dragon, but let me assure Zakiya that for me it is not just a dragon,” Kurt was sweet in his word but his tone had some bite to it, “It is a beast considered so dangerous by our Government that their breeding is considered illegal.” Kurt let the tension dissipate, “but thanks for the encouragement.”

Kurt took a steadying breath and moved toward the dragon that was now laying in peace with Iroh off to the side, he held his wand so tightly that his knuckles looked to be as pale as the wood that they held, “Flagellum.” The whip he held was as pale as the moon against the night sky and he tried his hand at waving it about but failed to produce the necessary crack, he looked to Iroh and received an encouraging nod. Kurt pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes, he went for a second attempt and there was a distant faint crack; ‘third time’s the charm’ Kurt told himself as he flexed the muscles in his arm and created a loud strong crack, “Inflamarae.” Kurt smiled devilishly and raised an elegant perfectly arched triumphant brow as he cracked the whip once more and to his glee sparks shot off the tip of the whip and curled into orange flames.

Kurt walked with tepid steps, closer to the beast that was lightly purring, with his shoulders pushed back and his chin strong so as to intimidate the beast with the power of his presence. Kurt didn’t so much as bat an eyelash as he climbed and mounted the sleeping dragon, against the advisement of the Hogwarts motto Kurt tickled the dragon and it sprung to life. Every flap of its large bat like wings sent a gust of wind that wreaked havoc on Kurt’s usually perfectly kept hair but the thrill of being in the air overtook his inhibitions and prevented him from caring; for the first time he understood Harry, not the brooding and self sacrificing image but the boy who loved to fly for it granted him freedoms that his life had never allowed before.

“Dracarys,” Kurt purred the words as he let go the reigns that had steered the dragon into a nosedive and the black flames to engulf both himself and his steed as the cinders danced on the delicate skin of his face, fear forgotten.

...

“You do tell a story with exceptional skill,” Cedric smiled as Kurt’s final words danced in the biting autumn air, “What possess someone with your wisdom to ride a dragon?”

Kurt tried to suppress his blush, “Hubris, I couldn’t be anything but the best. I feared dragons more than almost anything and yet the idea of those strangers thinking any less of me was much greater.”

“Some might consider that a fatal flaw,” Cedric’s voice was light but his words heavy, “risking one’s own wellbeing for the sake of one’s public image.”

Kurt gave a shy yet dazzling smile, “it’s why I’m in Slytherin.”

There was a minor awkward silence in the elevated box as they tried to watch the quidditch match as they had set out to do, that silence was broken when Ron spat a mouthful of hazelnuts onto the nape of Kurt’s neck, “what’s up with Harry and that bludger?”

Kurt was sizzling as he turned to face the flame haired, “You can’t behave yourself? Even during the people?”

Ron pointed frantically toward the pitch but it didn’t deter Kurt, “It’s going to kill Harry.”

“I’m going to kill you,” Kurt narrowed his eyes.

“Look,” Finn shouted, pointing loops and squiggles out onto the pitch. Kurt watched as his friend frantically darted about the quidditch pitch.

“Where’s Hermione when you need her?” Ron whined, “Guess I’ll have to take care of it.”

Kurt’s eyes grew wide, “not a chance in hell. If I let you attempt to stop that bludger, between the broken wand and your incompetence, it’ll be raining Harry.

“Oh, and what exactly do you suggest?”

“Naturally,” Kurt tilted his head with endearment, “I’d suggest alerting an authority figure but I know that wouldn’t suffice; we need someone with great hand-eye coordination and a steady hand.” Kurt turned to the dark-haired boy, “Finn, I’m going to need your assistance.”

Kurt instructed the boy on the incantation and wand movement before moving toward the front of the box and filling his lungs with air, “Harry! Fly toward Fred and George! Fred, George, beat it in this direction!”

“Really Kurt,” Anthony Ricket asked with wide eyes, “this direction?”

“Finn,” Kurt laid a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder, “get ready, if you miss and hit somebody they will plumit to the ground.”

“No pressure?” the boy asked nervously.

“No pressure,” Kurt smiled encouragingly, watching his plan fall into place; Harry flew straight at the Weasley twins but ducked into a nosedive within inches of the duo, George swung his bat and hit the bludger in their direction, “Any second would do Finn.” His brother stood with his wand extended but didn’t move a muscle, “Finn?” the bludger was growing closer, “Oh for heaven’s sake,” Kurt pulled out his own wand and said a little prayer, “Finite incantatem.”

The bludger stopped dead within inches of their faces and dropped like the stone it was, “Well, that happened.”

“I miss Hermione,” Kurt fell back into his seat with a tired huff.

~0~

Kurt and Hermione had spent the better part of the afternoon putting the finishing touches on their plan to invade the Slytherin Dungeon; Kurt felt off about the name but, again, that had fallen on Ron as it was tangential to his idea. They were sitting in the library after dinner when he decided to voice his doubts for the last time.

“This is a bad idea,” Kurt said firmly, “not just experimenting with a potion that we’ve never more than read of but everything.”

“It’s mostly your idea,” Harry pointed out.

“I may have made the plans and the hard decisions but it was Ron who came up with this ludicrous theory.”

“Ludicrous?” Ron gasped deeply, “what does he have to do with this?”

Hermione looked to the boys, “I’m with Kurt on this one.”

“Is there ever one where you're not with Kurt?” Ron scolded back.

“Plenty,” she said smacking her hand hard over his mouth, “but this theory is quite flimsy, Draco as the Heir of Slytherin is a theory that has zero factual support, did we learn nothing with the Snape blunder of last year?”

“His whole family has been in Slytherin since before most can remember,” Ron exclaimed.

Kurt tilted his head, “the lot of your family has been in Gryffindor, are you descendents of Godric Gryffindor?”

Ron popped his collar, “I like to think so.”

This statement earned him a smack on the back of the head from Kurt, “Also, my research has led me to believe that there have been many claims but only two of those claimed prior openings of the Chamber of Secrets in recent history match this claim, so I checked these with the enrolment registry and they don’t match up with any of the Malfoy’s school days.”

“Where did you learn that?” Hermione asked with wide eyes.

“In the Hall of Records,” Kurt smiled slyly, “I confunded Professor Binns’s hands into signing an admission slip.”

“And who exactly was here when they were opened?” Ron demanded loudly.

“You expect me to learn all eight hundred names from both claimed openings?”

“You keep saying ‘claimed’,” harry pointed out, “Do you not believe that the Chamber was truly opened?”

“No,” Kurt bowed his head, “The legend expressly says ‘purge’ which at the time implied ‘kill’, but almost nobody was killed in any of the claims except for two, the two that I did further research on. My theory is that some people are just being very badly behaved, Hermione and I know the petrifaction curse and those three deaths could be a spell gone awry or possibly the killing curse.”

Hermione looked scandalised, “that would mean that we’re at school with a particularly dark wizard.”

“It makes more sense than a monster over a thousand years old,” Kurt shrugged but he was startled by a loud pop.

“Dobby?” Harry furrowed his brow, “what are you doing here?”

“Dobby?” Hermione raised a bushy brow, “as in the house elf who warned you not to return to Hogwarts?”

“I thought you couldn’t apparate on the Hogwarts grounds,” Kurt waved a finger in the air.

“House elves can,” a light distant voice said from behind them, “their magic is different from ours and thus allows them to do things wizards can’t do, it’s one of the main reason they were enslaved by wizardkind.”

“Enslaved?” Kurt and Hermione droned simultaneously with horrified expressions.

“How long have you been standing there?” Ron asked the first year girl.

“Not long,” the girl’s waist length blond hair swished like stands of white gold as she swayed from side to side, “Madam Pince sent me to ask the idiot who is bellowing at the top of their lungs to shut it.”

She giggled as she said the last of her piece, the group turned from her to Ron with searing looks and by the time they turned back toward her she was gone.

“She was weird,” Ron snorted.

“Your face is weird,” Hermione countered.

“What?” Kurt turned to Harry with a confused look on his face.

“I thought you were the one mumbling,” the dark haired boy shrugged.

Kurt wagged a disapproving finger, “I never mumble, my Oma says it’s most unattractive in a man.”

“Hmmm,” Harry shrugged, “Could have sworn I heard you say you wanted something.”

“I want a cup of coffee,” Kurt stretched and flexed the muscles in his back, “I am tired.”

“Concentrate on the house elf,” Hermione snapped her fingers at the duo, “Sorry for keeping you waiting.”

“Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter that he should not have returned to Hogwarts,” Kurt watched the diminutive doe eyed creature crouch into himself as he spoke, “Hogwarts is not safe this year.”

“Why isn’t it safe Dobby?” Hermione’s voice was as soothing as sweet tea.

“History is to repeat itself,” Dobby clasped his hands over his mouth, “I thought Harry Potter was safe after he missed the train but Dobby heard his master talking about Harry Potter being at Hogwarts, so Dobby tried to show Harry Potter that Hogwarts was no longer safe but his bludger was stopped.”

“That was you?” Harry exclaimed.

“Dobby felt dreadful,” the elf looked on the verge of tears, “I had to iron my hands as punishment.”

“Self harm is very serious,” Kurt looked horrified, “You don’t have to hurt yourself to know that something is wrong, a simple ‘bad Dobby’ would suffice.”

“Dobby’s master told him to punish himself when he does something wrong.”

“Was he specific as to what wrong is?” Kurt raised a quizzical brow.

“Not really.”

“There you go,” Kurt smiled, “Simply change your perceptions of right and wrong.”

“Can Dobby do that?” the house elf’s bat like eats piqued in interest.

“Why not?” Kurt knew he had the house elf’s trust, “Dobby, do you know who opened the Chamber of Secrets the last time.”

“Dobby was forbidden to say,” he twitched nervously.

“Can you write it down?” Hermione caught onto Kurt’s wavelength.

“Dobby doesn’t know how to read and write.”

“Maybe Kurt could teach you to read and write,” Ron suggested.

“I would love nothing more in a general context,” Kurt assured Dobby, “but it wouldn’t serve a purpose right now.”

“Dobby will make a plan,” he snapped his fingers and disappeared.

Kurt looked to his group of friends, “Now I’m worried.”

“Off to bed,” Madam Pince appeared suddenly, “Library is closing and that scoundrel that was making noise best not return.”

Kurt packed his book whilst the vulture like librarian looked on beadily, she shooed them out of the library and into the dark deserted corridor.

“Well,” Harry shrugged with confusion evident on his face, “that happened.”

It was Hermione who called after Kurt who had taken off up the hallway, “Where are you off to? The Slytherin dungeon is the other way.”

“Laundry,” Kurt shrugged as he walked off, “to get uniforms for tomorrow.” His friends looked rather confused, “You don’t think you're going to wear your Gryffindor robes, do you? I also doubt they’d fit Millicent, Vincent and Gregory as they are quite heavy set. Come along, Gryffindor tower is this way.”

“We know which way it is,” Ron rolled his eyes as they followed Kurt.

“I’m not disputing that,” Kurt shouted back from the antechamber adjacent to the grand staircase, Kurt was caught unawares as the floor seemed to come flying towards him; he was falling, “God save the queen.” As his vision steadied itself a knowing dawned on Kurt, for the second time that year he had walked into Collin Creevey but there was no flashing cameras or endless babbling which was odd considering Harry’s proximity.

“Oh god,” Hermione clasped her hand over her mouth, “He’s been petrified.”

“And we’re at the scene of the crime,” Ron whined.

“What should we do?” Hermione looked to him, Kurt lay unmoving as he gathered his thoughts, “Does anyone know?”

“We can’t be seen here,” Harry turned a hundred eighty but saw McGonagall coming down the hall and completed the rotation, “there goes that.”

Kurt thought for a moment before first noticing the large door, “in there, all of you are going to have to see Draco without me tomorrow because I am about to get into a lot of shit.”

Kurt pushed them into the door he’d never seen before, he then watched it vanish but knew it would arouse suspicion if nobody had been at the scene because Harry had been seen. Professor McGonagall stared icily into his soul, “What are you doing out of be-bed?” Kurt knew the instance her eyes went wide that she had seen Collin laying petrified on the ground beside him, “Did you do this?”

“No.” Kurt was short with her in order to allow his friends time to get away.

McGonagall pulled her spectacles down the bridge of her narrow nose as she conjured and sent off two paper planes, for a moment Kurt wished he had his own spectacles so he could mirror her but chose to look down his nose at her, trying his best to come across as condescending, “then pray tell, what are you doing out of bed this late and far from the Slytherin dungeon?”

“I was in the library.”

“The library is closed,” McGonagall shook her head disapprovingly, “And you are in the wrong part of the school for that excuse.”

“I was walking a first year, not this one,” Kurt pointed to Collin dismissively, “back to her dormitory, kind of like a date.”

“You’re dating an eleven year old?”

“I said ‘like a date’,” Kurt pointed out his wording like it was the most obvious thing, “not actually a date.”

“And who might that student be?”

Kurt tried to remember if the little blond girl had given him her name but it was to no avail, “I don’t know her, she was so little and so alone my heart melted.”

McGonagall tilted her head, “Convenient.”

“Well,” Professor Snape swished his lifeless hair as he appeared from nowhere, “is this not the school of conveniences Minerva?”

“I resent the implication,” Professor McGonagall snapped back, “this is the second time he’s been found at the scene of the crime.”

“Twice is a coincidence,” Snape drawled monotonously.

“Darlings, I’m here-” Professor Dumbledore announced elegantly before his face dropped and his shoulders slumped, “Minerva, could you once call me for shots. I feel like every time I leave my office at your request there’s somekind of disaster, for heaven’s sake could it once be a dance party?”

“Albus,” Professor McGonagall looked affronted by the headmaster’s tone, “a student has been attacked and I have reason to believe it was the doing of another student, this student.”

“Oh,” Professor Dumbledore put on false enthusiasm, “well, that changes nothing.”

“Headmaster,” Professor Snape snaked his way between the two elderly professors, “I feel that Professor McGonagall is jumping to conclusions based on circumstantial evidence, as most Gryffindors do.”

“I thought I was the only one who noticed that,” Kurt waved his hands with mouth gaping in astonishment.

A single look from the dark haired man silenced him and had him standing neat as a pin, “If memory serves, it falls on me to deal with the transgressions of my students.”

“Indeed,” Professor Dumbledore let out a large yawn and checked his watch, “Kurt, might I see you in my office at tea time tomorrow.”

“Why not?” Kurt shrugged.

Professor Snape tapped his shoulder and gestured for him to follow, the man to large powerful steps that left his robes bellowing in his wake. Kurt took short quick steps that created an air of elegance with gently bounce of his robes with each step as they descended into the depths of Hogwarts, into the castle dungeons and straight into Professor Snape’s office.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” the man demanded as he sat behind his desk.

Kurt wasn’t sure what to say for a moment, “I have to feed Bomballerina.”

“I suggest you chose your words more carefully or I might regret my actions,” the man crossed his arms at a menacingly slack pace, “Now, why were you in the hallway alone late at night.”

“it’s actually not that late,” pointed out the obvious, “the library closed like, ten minutes ago. I was on my way to the laundry room.”

“And why were you on your way to the laundry room?”

“I accidently put my ‘dry-clean only’ blazer in my hamper.”

“I know you aren’t the one attacking muggleborns,” the man reclined and crossed his legs, “but I suspect that you have an idea as to what’s going on.”

“I thought I did,” Kurt’s shoulders drooped under the weight of his distress.

“Very well,” Professor Snape rolled his eyes as he held an embossed piece of parchment as though reading it for the hundredth time, he suddenly looked to Kurt then the parchment and back at Kurt with a wickedly triumphant yellow smile, “You’re a world champion duellist, if memory serves?”

“Not world champion,” Kurt shook his head violently, “I just won gold at the BAT.”

“That’s like winning gold at the junior Olympics,” the man smiled devilishly, “you are a world champion in your age group. This will do just fine as punishment, you can aide Lockhart with his ridiculous duelling club.”

~0~

Kurt reached the top of the spiral staircase hidden behind the gilded gargoyle, he brushed down the lapels on his charcoal blazer and straightened the broach holding his cloak in place before knocking firmly on the large dark wooden doors.

“Come in Kurt,” Professor Dumbledore called from within the office.

Kurt entered the circular office with bookshelves that went up to the ceilings and silver contraptions all about, “Good Afternoon Professor Dumbledore.”

“Sup homeboy,” the elderly wizards voice trailed into falsetto.

Kurt shook his head in disappointment, “No.”

“It doesn’t sound right does it,” the man shook his head innocently.

Kurt took his usual seat opposite the elderly man, Kurt eyed the man’s magnificent flowing midnight blue robes, “I look cute, you look cute. I’m not dancing around you like I did last year, what’s the deal with this Chamber of Secrets.”

“Funny,” the man reclined in his seat with a small chuckle, “I was going to say the same thing.”

“How so?”

“I know you’ve been doing your research,” the man smiled, “people don’t just break into Hall of Records without word reaching the headmaster.”

“I didn’t break in,” Kurt leaned forward and smiled, “that makes me sound like a common thief, I simply made use of alternate methods of entrance and I had slip.”

“Nice reframe,” Dumbledore twiddled his thumbs, “but I see that you’re trying to distract me.”

“I’m not here to give you information,” Kurt crossed his arms and pursed his lips, “but rather to get information from you.”

“Oh, is that so?”

Kurt raised an eyebrow, “So, is the Chamber of Secrets real?”

“What has your research told you?”

“There have been five rumoured openings in the last three hundred years,” Kurt rolled his eyes, “of which several are potentially false.”

“Potentially false?”

“These openings had no deaths,” Kurt yawned, “they could simply have been idiots playing with the petrifying curse but that’s also what this entire thing could me, and the deaths could be boldness in the form of the killing curse or incompetency in a failed petrifaction that resulted in death.”

“My turn,” Professor Dumbledore leaned forward, “try to stay awake. The Chamber of Secrets is very real.”

“Who opened it?”

“Who do you think opened it?”

Kurt looked to his nails, “Ron thinks it’s the Malfoys.”

Dumbledore stifled a laugh, “And what do you believe?”

“I believe the ‘who’ isn’t important,” Kurt shook his head, “If this thing is real then it doesn’t matter who controls the beast, the beast is the problem. The only purpose that this person serves would be to clear Harry and I of the rumours circulating about us.”

 Dumbledore raised a brow, “How is the Heir of Slytherin going to prove that you aren’t dating Harry Potter?”

Kurt’s mouth fell open, “People think I’m dating Harry Potter.”

“Oh yes,” Dumbledore snickered, “you saving his life yesterday only served to intensify the rumours, people think you're two crazy lovers out to destroy your enemies with the power of Salazar Slytherin’s monster.”

Kurt guffawed at the ludicrous notion, “people actually believe that?”

“You’d be surprised the things people will believe,” the elderly wizard tilted his head forward and smiled, “Story time.”

“I never did understand why it is you tell me all these stories but cool.”

“This one’s good,” the man rested his chin on the heels of his hands, “there once was a man named Michael Finnegan, he grew whiskers-”

“Stop,” Kurt raised his hand in protest, “I know that one.”

The elderly wizard’s eyes grew wide, “you do? How does it go?”

“He grows whiskers on his chin, gets fat and then thin before his untimely death.”

“Oh,” Professor Dumbledore’s face dropped, “you do know it.”

“So, are we just not going to talk about the Chamber of Secrets?”

“The Board of Governors and I have decided not to startle the students by discussing that matter,” he held his hands up in defeat, “As headmaster I am bound to honour the wishes of the board.”

“Can you nod or shake your head?”

“Can I what?”

“It’s obvious that you can’t answer questions outright,” Kurt egged the man on hoping he would catch on, “but nodding your head isn’t saying anything.”

“Oh,” Professor Dumbledore nodded as he spoke, “you’re good.”

“I am,” Kurt brushed aside a stray hair, “Do you know where the Chamber of Secrets is?”

Head shake, ‘No’.

“Let’s back track,” Kurt wracked his mind for the right question, “Do you know, with definitive proof who was responsible for prior opening?”

Shrug, ‘I have a hunch’.

“I’m not interested in hunches,” Kurt dismissed the man’s notions, “Do you know what the monster is?”

Head shake, ‘No’, with a touch too much attitude.

“Do you know how to stop the attacks?”

Head Shake, ‘No’.

“Will you close the school if the attacks persist?”

Nod, ‘Yes’.

“Is that what happened the last time?”

Silence.

“Did they threaten to shut the school down?”

Nod, ‘Yes’.

“Has anybody ever been held responsible for an opening of the Chamber of Secrets?”

Nod, ‘Yes’.

“Do I know or know of this person?”

The elderly wizard’s eyes shone bright as he narrowed them, “I don’t what you know.”


	5. Chapter 5

Hermione received her vial of potion from Kurt with a stern look, “When the Fred and George give the signal, you’ll have ten minutes to switch out with the people you're doubling for and put your doubles in place.”

“How is this working again?” Neville asked as he eyed his vial of Golden liquid.

“You are going to drink your polyjuice and turn into Harry so as not to arouse suspicion,” Hermione explained with frank assertion, “Finn on the other hand will be turning into me.”

“Why don’t I have a double?” Ron demanded.

“No one was willing to be that ugly,” Finn punched the air and held his hand out for a high five that nobody accepted.

Hermione looked about Mertyl’s bathroom vigilantly, “We also ran out of people who we trusted enough to break the rules with.”

“We have to go to dinner,” Kurt was so intense that Hermione could barely believe him to be the friend she gossiped with in class, he wasn’t doing the falsified intensity she was used to seeing him do, “Harry and Hermione have to behave normally the whole night, Ron, Finn and Neville to make sure they are seen leaving dinner early.”

“We know,” Ron whined, “Fred and George will tell us five minutes before they diffuse the fireworks and kill the lights, we leave and get changed. When you scream we come back, help get rid of Crabbe, Goyle and Pansy, and take our positions.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry raised his hand, “Why does my potion look like bogies?”

Hermione rolled her eyes, “They already have the essence added and as such have assumed a form to match the people we’ve chosen to shadow; evidently Goyle is quite bogie like.”

“I hope that isn’t an indication of taste because this shit looks like mud,” Ron held up his vial defensively.

“Mine’s either apple juice or pee,” Neville furrowed his brow and grimaced.

Hermione checked her watch, “Let’s go or we’ll be late.”

“We’re almost never on time for anything,” Harry pointed

“Would you rather loiter in the girls’ bathroom just a little longer?” Kurt crossed his arms maternally, “Off to dinner with you. Be sure to mind your mannerisms, especially when in disguise.”

“Nothing would be more suspect than Pansy Parkinson behaving like a lady,” Neville chortled with the Kurt, Hermione made an mental note to congratulate Kurt on the success of his endeavour; turning Neville into an occlumens was truly an unparalleled victory in the clumsy boy’s life, he was doing much better scholastically from what she’d managed to see.

“Or me talking too much,” Harry pointed out.

Hermione filed out of the bathroom in time with the rest of their make shift clique but soon collided with Finn who’d come to a dead stop in her path, “Watch it Finnocence!” she noted that she’d picked up one too many of Kurt’s mannerisms, “What’s the beef?”

“I’m the beef,” Percy Weasley stood before them with his arms crossed arrogantly over his chest and a self-satisfied smile on his smarmy face, “Quite the predicament you find yourselves in; loitering in a bathroom is a serious offense, a girl’s bathroom none the less. What business do five second year boys have in a girls’ bathroom?”

“Watch it Weasley,” Ron spoke in a deep menacing voice.

“What’s wrong with him?” Percy raised a questioning brow.

“We just had to deal with a serious emergency,” Hermione stepped in front of the group of boys and leaned in close to Percy so she could speak in a hushed tone, barely above a whisper, “I had a female emergency and my skirt was stained so Kurt took me to the bathroom whilst Finn went to get Ron and Harry with a new skirt-”

Percy had turned a queasy shade of green as he held up his hand, “say no more, I understand.” He looked to regain his composure, “in future ask one of your female classmates for assistance.”

“We don’t like most of them,” Kurt pointed out.

“I like Padma,” Finn interjected defensively.

“I like her too,” Kurt nodded along in approval, “other than being very smart, she’s really pretty.”

Finn’s nose turned a violent shade of chrimson, “I don’t know about that.” He scratched behind his ears as he searched for a follow up to his current embarrassment, “Uhh…”

“Quite alright,” Percy interjected to the embarrassed, tall boy’s benefit, “Off to sinner- I mean dinner.”

The group exchanged a quizzical look before scurrying off to the dinner hall; it was Harry who was first to speak, clapping her on the back as he did so “What did you say to Percy that made him look so sick?”

“I’m sure you’d react exactly the same way if I told you,” she was preening in the small victory but knew that the true difficulty was still ahead, “but I’m sure Kurt would be willing to scar you.”

“She told him she was surfing the crimson wave,” Kurt sounded on the verge of laughter as he spoke but chose to simply giggle as the other boys deduced what he was saying.

Ron grimaced, “That’s disgusting!”

“That’s nature,” Kurt pursed his lips.

“That’s nature,” Finn imitated him as they took their seats in the dining hall, Finn with the Hufflepuff boys and Kurt with the Gryffindors as he frequently did; they didn’t want to arouse more suspicion by having him sitting with the Slytherins, something he almost never did.

Oliver Wood, the Gryffindor quidditch captain, waved Harry over to where a large group of sports playing types had congregated; for a moment the boy looked unsure but Hermione had nodded and off he went. Ron was left standing awkwardly, unsure what to do with himself as Kurt and Neville took their seats.

“Ron,” Hermione smiled broadly as she grabbed the lost looking boy’s hand, “Sit with us.”

Hermione looked at Kurt then at Lavender with a slight wiggle of a brow, if that girl wanted to play games then she had best pick her adversaries more wisely in future; Kurt appeared to get her message as he grabbed Ron by the shoulders and directed him to the seat between them, directly opposite Lavender and Pavarti.

“Lav, Pav,” Kurt gasped over a broad smile, “That’s so cute! Lav and Pav, don’t you think so Hermione?”

“Too cute,” Hermione wasn’t sure why they were being nice but always knew Kurt was better at being terrible, “Did you plan that?”

“They totally planned that,” Kurt wriggled his brow, “You planned that.”

“We didn’t plan that,” Lavender had turned bright red.

“I wasn’t asking,” Kurt had dropped his smile.

“You can’t make us believe it’s just a happy coincidence,” Neville added most unexpectedly.

“Nobody even calls us that,” Pavarti sneered.

“They should,” Hermione pursed her lips as she’d found she had come to do over time, “Don’t you think Ron?”

“It rhymes?” Ron shrugged nervously.

Lavender exhaled a breath she’d been holding longer than she knew, “it does, doesn’t it.”

“Too cute to be allowed,” Neville shocked Hermione with how adaptable he seemed to be when he spoke to Kurt and herself; he seemed much more in the present than before, a stark contrast from the boy who always seemed to be playing catch up.

Hermione flicked the tips of her fingers through her bangs and Kurt seemed to know in the moment what she meant and returned to normal conversation, “So Ronald, I saw that you tanked your last History of Magic test.”

“How did you see that?” Ron spat some food as he spoke.

“We see everything,” Hermione quipped with a smirk, “I just thought you should know that there is no shame in asking your friends for help.”

“We’re here for you,” Kurt placed a hand on the red haired boy’s shoulder. Hermione didn’t have to look at Lavender to know she was bubbling with jealousy; it was nice to know that they could behave like normal and affect her so.

“I could check my schedule and fit you in for tutoring session before our next test,” Hermione pulled out her diary and started looking for free time.

“Wow,” Ron’s tone was quite unimpressed as he placed his chin in hands, “you’re there for me but only if you can find time for me.”

Hermione began her defence, “That’s not what I me-”

Lavender giggled and Kurt interjected, “That’s exactly what she means, her time is precious and as such must be allocated with the greatest care; between studying, recreational reading and socialising.”

“Recreational reading?” Ron raised a quizzical brow, “What does that even mean?”

“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” Kurt said before delicately placing a minuscular forkful of food ever so precisely in his mouth and wiping the corners though nothing had settled there.

“It’s what Harry, Kurt and I will be doing in the library after dinner,” she smirked as spoke the words, “I suggest you join us if you care to find out.”

“How did you do in the test?” Kurt had turned a tender ear to Neville, “Don’t be shy.”

“I got a C,” Neville looked down at his fingernails when he spoke, “I studied hard but I was so far behind it took me some time to catch up.”

“It’s up a grade from your last test,” Hermione smiled and paid due congratulations, “Medieval history is much more simple to master because the many opinions on the events depicted have been filtered more thoroughly and the facts have been sorted from the noise.”

“I hear next year is set to be much more challenging as we begin to tackle modern wizarding history,” Kurt’s eyes lit up whenever he spoke of history, he on many occasions told her it was his favourite subject which made him one of perhaps the only students to enjoy Professor Binns’s class, “We’ll get to deal with deciphering fact from opinion.”

“Boring!” Ron exclaimed Kurt’s ear which earned him a scowl that sent shivers up Hermione’s spine.

“Mind your manners,” George placed his hands firmly on Ron’s shoulders, constricting any rigorous movement.

“Mother wouldn’t approve,” Fred wagged a finger in his face.

“Percy wouldn’t approve,” George’s eyes grew wide.

“Almost makes it tempting,” they chorused looking to each other for approval before shaking their heads to the negative.

“What do you want?” Ron demanded of his brothers.

“Want?” Fred smiled.

“You couldn’t get us what we want,” George shooed Ron dismissively.

“It’s what we need that brings us here,” Fred pulled his brother aside and took his seat.

George slid into the seat between Kurt and Neville, “It’s what we need from this betty here?”

Kurt lazily raised a brow, “Me?”

“If memory serves you owe us a favour,” George smirked.

Kurt rolled his eyes, “if memory serves it was two favours.”

“Regardless,” Fred waved off the technicality.

“We’ve come to collect,” George made his brow dance as he spoke.

Hermione broke off from the moment, “Do tell how you came to be indebted to these two imbecilic.”

“Imbecilic?” they chorused, “two?”

“Little Miss Granger,” George shook his finger at her.

Fred shook his head, “You must have us mistaken for another.”

“If I’d been talking to you then that would have been quite the quip but as it is I was speaking about you,” the pair stood flabbergasted for a moment but when they moved to speak she raised a silencing hand, “Kurt, you were saying.”

Kurt fiddled with his cutlery in a manner quite out of character, “I might have over extended myself and outsourced some of my duties.”

“Offering something in return is such a rooky mistake,” Hermione shook her head.

“What can I do for you?”

“You can do one of two things,” Fred spoke excitedly.

“We’re so kind we’re letting you choose,” George smiled.

“Consider this your Christmas gift.”

“We’re seriously not getting you anything else.”

“Option one,” Fred held up a single finger as he spoke.

“You petrify Cedric Diggory just before the Hufflepuff and Gryffindor match,” George smiled and held up two fingers before continuing, “Option two.”

“We want world peace,” George shot Fred a disapproving look, “On a serious note… I forgot.”

“You ruined it,” George shook his head in disapproval.

“I ruined it?” Fred shouted defensively as the pair argued away from where Hermione and company had been sitting.

“That was weird, I have studying to do,” Neville turned, jumped off the bench enthusiastically and exited the dining hall; one.

“Neville is right,” Hermione looked at the duo as they returned to their seats, wondering what had convinced them to have such a silly signal as opposed to a subtle hair flick or purse of the lips but their runaway train of a plan was in action and there was no stopping it now.

“That was so strange,” she and Kurt chorused.

“I think it may be drugs,” Kurt was alternating between nodding and shaking his head as he giggled lightly.

“Must be drugs if they thought you’d harm a perfectly quaffed hair on Cedric Diggory’s head,” She was amused by how suddenly the other boy’s smile fell as red tinge started creeping above his collar.

“I’m sure they would have gotten the same reaction if the asked the same of you with Professor Lockhart,” Hermione felt her eyes go wide as she drew in a deep.

“Oh,” she shook her head in disbelief as she searched for a comeback that might be of significance, “At least I’m not being pursued by Gregory Goyle, wake up to him masturbating over you recently?”

Kurt’s jaw went slack and she knew she’d struck a nerve, “That was one time!” Kurt lowered his voice to a whisper, “And I told you that in confidence because I’m not sure if it was real, also he was just standing there.”

“I can’t even deal with you two,” Ron gave them each a disapproving glare, “Ron Weasley out, peace.”

Two.

“He thinks he’s so cool,” Kurt said looking at the retreating redhead over his shoulder.

Hermione looked over to the Hufflepuff table and saw that Finn was already gone, three.

There was a howling breeze that blew through the dining hall and the hovering candles went out, there was an endless series of thuds as they fell from their positions of permanent levitation, and Kurt screamed his high pitched wail like he was supposed to so as to promote panic. Hermione pulled out the new tie from her satchel and abandoned her robes and Alice band before opening her vial; bottoms up. The potion tasted vile, like curdled cream; sour and bitter. Hermione felt her transformation begin, it was painless as her nails grew; her hair shrunk, deflated and became silky; her teeth shrunk and her braces disappeared; her legs became spindly; her prepubescent breast shrunk; and her frame became more boyish- Pansy Parkinson was yet to grow into a woman as she’d begun to.

There was commotion and panic as she pulled a roll of bewitched mints from her robes and began forcing them into their targets mouths; their saliva bonded with the coat and reversed the transfiguration, she held her hand over Pansy’s mouth so that she had no choice but to swallow the liquid that had pooled in her mouth; she repeated the process twice more as Finn and Neville took each unconscious preteen away. She took her new position and took off her watch and slipped it to her double, the lights came on.

She looked about the room suspiciously as most of the Slytherins were doing, she looked a mess but that was the Pansy Parkinson way; everything looked to be the way they had planned it. But suddenly her attention was drawn by a scream from the Hufflepuff long table, there was a scarecrow dressed in Hufflepuff robes on hanging from the ceiling with a piece of paper taped to the chest with ‘you are next’ written on it. There was silence but she knew what she had to do and started guffawing, the laugh was not her own but a familiar shrill cruel laugh that most of the Slytherin students soon joined in on. She looked across the dining hall to a horrified looking Kurt, clearly the Weasley twins had taken a few unexpected liberties but they had made the evening interesting but it appeared that their prank had been received as a joke rather than a legitimate threat from the heir.

“Look at Granger and Hummel,” Millicent Bulstrode, a burly manish girl with dark hair, was talking to her about her, “acting all innocent and horrified, those bitches aren’t fooling anybody.”

“Isn’t that what they always do,” Daphne Greengrass mumbled into her blond hair, “pretend?”

Taylor Avery adjusted her spectacles and swished her pale brown hair, “I hear the mudblood’s cozying up to the blood traitor.”

“And that the fairy’s getting it balls deep from Diggory,” Millicent sneered as she spoke the profanity; she and Kurt had always been quite forward and sexually mature but they had never been quite so vulgar in their interaction, Hermione knew that she couldn’t afford to come across as anything but normal.

“All true of course,” Hermione leaned forward, smiled and knew it to be wicked, “I heard from Pavarti, who can of course be trusted as a pureblood, that the mudblood and the Weasley scum are totally doing it.” Hermione reclined arrogantly as she spoke ill of herself, “Of course such filth can’t be expected to keep virtue like those of us who are of Noble blood.”

“As for Hummel,” Tracey rolled her eyes, “besmirching the House of Slytherin.”

“How he was placed in this house,” Hermione shook her head and turned up her nose as she spoke, “I don’t know what that stupid hat was thinking.”

Dinner was winding down and the joke was almost long forgotten and she knew she’d be seeing the Slytherin dungeon for the first time but would have to pretend not to admire it’s legendary beauty. As she stood to follow the rest of the Slytherins out of the dining hall, she turned to the group of bitter wicked little girls and winked before racing ahead to catch up with her accomplices to enacting their true mission. She scurried down the stairs so as to catch up with the trio of boys before they entered the common room and left her lost on the outside.

“Pansy,” Draco smirked salaciously at the girl he believed her to be, “Done giggling about with those stupid girls.”

“Now Draco,” Hermione purred the name like she’d never believed she could, “don’t be nasty.”

“Are you the only one who’s allowed to be nasty Pansy?” Kurt’s comfortingly familiar voice rang across the dungeon.

Hermione flipped the short silky hair in a manner she wouldn’t mind becoming familiar with, “You’re right, I’m misusing the word; what’s really nasty is what we hear Cedric does to you.”

“Don’t talk that way about Kurt!” Harry screamed, forgetting that they were in character and for a moment her world stood still. Ron punched him on the shoulder and Harry let out a high pitched howl, “Ouch.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Draco spoke first, they all had their breath held as the fair haired boy sneered at Goyle almost as though he were seeing through the effects of the potion to Harry's core, “It seems Goyle is always coming to your defence, you must be enjoying the same obscenities as Diggory.”

“Or, now this may sound like madness,” Kurt’s tone was oozing sarcasm as he wildly waved his arms in time with his words, “He might just be a decent human being.”

By the time Kurt finished his attention grabbing comment the three of them had regained their composure and were staring daggers at their friend, “Just go to the library with your degenerate friends, the filth of your blood is making me lightheaded.”

“That’s called stupidity,” Kurt quipped with an elegant flip of his chestnut bangs, “the light feeling is a result of your head’s emptiness.”

“Just go!” Ron screamed, another wave of silence washed over the pentad of second year students.

Kurt raised a perfectly sculpted brow and smiled, “Eat my gold trans am.”

“What does that even mean?” Draco furrowed his brow and shook his head in either disappointment or disgust but Kurt was gone before the question was answered.

“He is so weird,” Crabbe’s voice spoke the words but the tone was all Ron, something Hermione made sure to make note of.

“Expecting any more from someone like him would be expecting too much,” Hermione turned her nose up as she spoke but knew the hurt that playing one’s role too well might have caused was wearing her thin, she wanted to get this over with and go back to being gossiped about, “And to think people are foolish enough to think he’s the heir of Slytherin.”

She reclined over the black quilted leather coach as obnoxiously as she could manage in her current state of despair but knew Kurt would rather hear a hundred more jibes than see her slacking on the job. Hermione ran her hands through Pansy Parkinson’s hair as she waited for somebody to take the baton but neither Harry nor Ron looked ready to move and the onus fell on her.

“Draco,” she flipped the slick black hair, something she noted she seemed to quite enjoy doing, “surely one as well connected as yourself must know something.”

Draco preened at her flattery, it made her ill but she knew to keep face, “I’ll tell you what I told Crabbe and Goyle, I don’t know who opened the chamber of secrets; mother refused to let father tell me but what I do know is that they were caught and sent to Azkaban after a mudblood died.” The arrogant boy’s smirk made Hermione want to punch him, “It’s only a matter of time before someone’s killed this time. Me, I hope it’s Granger!”

Ron jerked as if to pounce but Hermione pre-empted him, “One of those insufferable know-it-alls at least.”

“Do you have any suspicions?” Harry asked with little to no tact.

“Most think it’s Potter, Hummel and Granger,” Hermione leaned in so close she could smell Draco’s rancid breath as he breathed shallowly, “but the heir of Slytherin would have to be a pureblood.”

“You’re forgetting Weasley,” Ron reminded her that he was a factor in the equation as well.

“A Weasley?” Draco chortled at the thought, “they are barely purebloods; they’re poor and their family isn’t exactly noble. The idea that they may be descendants of Salazar Slytherin is a laughing matter.” Harry was holding Ron in place as he began to bubble but Draco was too deep in monologue to notice, “Those red-haired miscreants in their shabby hand-me-down robes are as good as the dirt they surround themselves with.”

Hermione got up to leave as she realised that she and Kurt’s suspicions were correct; Draco Malfoy knows nothing. She smiled as she waved with her fingers and a tad too much attitude; she exited into the hallway without saying a word about where she was going but knew Harry and Ron would soon be following her. Hermione entered Mertyl’s bathroom and headed straight for a stall, the vulgarities she’d witnessed had her insides in knots and her dinner coming up in chunks coated in cream liquid; there was a single thought left in his mind, ‘How did Kurt spend the time he was forced to spend with those miscreants without losing his mind?’


	6. Bonus 001: A Day with Petunia Dursley

Petunia Dursley got up early, unlike any other day, before her alarm went off which proved to be surprisingly gratifying. She didn’t warrant this as strange behaviour but was rather pleased with herself as she watched the arms of her bed side clock tick closer and closer to 6:05, waiting for it to go off so that her day could begin; she might be rising early but it would throw her entire schedule into disarray if she began her day any earlier and anarchy would ensue.

Like any other morning she went about her chores like a good normal wife would, on schedule: she made her sweet Vernon a full English breakfast to give him strength till brunch, making sure to make his bacon only the minimal amount crispy and to keep his sausages juicy, just the way he liked them; she’d then vacuumed the entire house twice and cleaned her home till it was as spotless as she liked it to be, ready to seat the queen for tea should she choose to join them; her next task was to tend to her garden, she had pruned the roses, re-potted her herbs and weeded the flower bed.

Her day had been normal, as days should be.

As she climbed the stairs she noticed that one creaked, the thirteenth one, but paid no mind as she would deal with that after her second shower; it wasn’t normal for people to fester in the filth of the garden and the day’s work, least of all a lady of as high a stature as herself. As she ran the shower scalding, as she enjoyed it, she felt herself do something odd; hum.

Petunia stepped into the shower bath combo of her en-suit bathroom and for the first time in the fifteen years she’d been living in her house, she slipped. She tangled herself in the shower curtain and fell into the tub, bumping her head on the faucet; darkness.

As she regained her composure a hooded figure walked ominously toward her, it stood before her and pulled back its hood, “Tough brake SJP, you’re dead.”

Petunia made sure her body was hidden from this strangely familiar man’s salacious gaze as she eyed him moving to sit on the edge of the tub as hot washed over her, “You’re… you’re…” the words died in her throat.

“Death?” the man chuckled, “Yes.”

“You’re Stephen Fry,” she heard her voice rise an octave as she said the name.

“Oh,” he looked down at himself, “Most don’t recognise me state side, good on you SJP.”

“Who’s SJP?”

“Don’t try that one with me,” the man got to his feet and frantically waved his hands about with rage, “I asked for a description this time so that you couldn’t pretend to be someone else and your ticket expires; horse faced, blond, female, goes by Sarah Jessica Parker.”

“I’m not Sarah Jessant- what’s her name,” her eyes grew wide, “I’m Petunia Hestia Dursley, formerly Evans.”

The man produced a peculiar parchment from his cloak, “You’re not on this year’s list... oh, but do you know a Dudley Dursley?”

“Dudley?” her eyes grew wide as saucers, “What of him? That’s my baby boy.”

“He has a ticket to hell for later this year.”

“This year?” Petunia heard herself shriek, “Hell? Not my Dudicans.”

“Oh but he has committed the ultimate crime,” Stephen Fry shrugged as his voice trailed off tiredly, “You all have actually, no greater crime than mistreating one’s family.”

~0~

When Petunia had woken from her odd dream the water had run cold, she dried herself off with a fresh outlook on the day; it was no longer an ordinary day but rather an extraordinary one, one where she would surpass all expectations. Petunia knew that her family may have committed the ultimate sin but if there was one thing she knew about sin, is that it goes away if you repented; she had absolutely no intention of going down the same way her parents had, she would reconcile her differences with her nephew even if it killed her. Her parents had never seen the error of their ways; treating her like less because she was normal but that had been their mistake and evidently she had almost made the same mistake.

Once dressed she had sat down at her antique secretary and pulled out her finest stationary to write a letter;

_Dearest Harry,_

_I hope you are well and having a good time at that freak school of yours. I’m writing you to let you know that I forgive you for being strange, I know it isn’t your fault and you didn’t mean to do it- at least not on purpose. I realise now that your improper self-conduct is beyond my control, however I now realise that what is within my control is my reaction; I now know that I can change the way your strangeness makes me feel. I would like to grant you permission to be ‘you’ to your heart’s content as I have decided not to let it upset me._

_I was about the age you are now when your mother and I had our falling out, as you may believe that was quite some time ago and the anger has festered itself within my being but through sudden realisation I have come to see that it wouldn’t be fair of me to blame you for your mother or even my mother’s doing. I have been carrying this unpleasantness within myself as though it were my fault or perhaps my problem but truly it is evident that it is the wrong doing of others._

_On a much more pleasant matter, Christmas, I naturally expect you to return and be on your best behaviour as I have a special treat in store for the entire family. Please write back with your reply._

_With Love,_

_Aunt Petunia._

Petunia folded the letter and wrote a bitterly familiar address but the addressee was different this time, the hopefulness was the same though. She slipped into her coat, jumped into the station wagon and was off on an excursion to London; an unplanned excursion, had her brush with death spurred a strand spontaneity? It was hard to imagine life as anything but what it had been but she was now putting in place changes for the betterment of her family; what was the point of inside information if it didn’t change anything? Lily, her husband and her son were all cut of the same odd fabric; that view would never change but for her family she would cast that aside, she would treat her nephew well and encourage her family to do the same as a charity, the absurdity of what he was would remain but the level at which she let it factor in her life would change.

As she entered the city streets she realised that she now had to rededicate herself to church; knowing there was a heaven and a hell meant that one now had the responsibility to behave in a manner consistent with the parameters set in place for a positive review at the end of the journey of life.

She parked her car alongside the curb in front of the shabby looking London pub, she could see the stencil of the witch leaning over her cauldron from the driver’s seat. Petunia Dursley knew that the pub would be swarming with throngs of those strange folk but knew that all that she did was for Dudley, as a mother was there no greater duty than serving your children? She got out of the midrange estate vehicle and slapped a great smile on her face as she walked into the Leaky Cauldron; the atmosphere was thick with smoke but there still managed to have a jovial disposition about the place.

She walked up to the barkeep with her handbag under her arm and the letter in hand, “Hi, I’m Petunia Dursley. I’d like to send a letter to my nephew at Hogwarts, I was wondering if you could direct me.” She didn’t receive so much as a vacant stare from the man, “I need to get onto Diagon Alley so that I can visit the public owlery and send this letter.”

She surprised herself with how well she remembered her parents’ excursions to send things to Lily, they did exactly as she was doing now but they seemed to get a better response than the one she was currently receiving. She seemed to have hit a snag in her plan but then something that Lily had once mentioned was that the magic world was a secret and such as a normal person they couldn’t tell her more.

“Look,” she nearly placed her hand on the bar top but thought better of it at the sight of the grimy wood, “I know all about the wizarding world.” She held out her letter, “I just want to send this to my nephew at Hogwarts.”

“That there’s addressed to Harry Potter,” the man exclaimed dropping his glass in astonishment.

“Yes of course,” Petunia was perplexed by the reaction, “that’s my nephew’s name. Do you know him? It would be awful if he visited a place like this.” The man’s face hardened, “not that this isn’t a fine establishment but rather because he’s so young.”

“He came through here once,” the man’s eyes shone like she’d never seen anyone’s eye do when speaking of someone she knew but rather as though recounting an encounter with Margaret Thatcher, “Do you think he might remember me?”

“I’m sure he would,” Her patience was running thin, she wondered how everybody did this ‘nice’ thing for so long because it sure was tiresome, “I don’t mean to be rude but can you help me?”

“Anything for a friend of Harry Potter’s.”

As the man led her into a small courtyard and opened the brick wall to Diagon Alley as she recalled seeing as a small child, she couldn’t help but worry that the sudden revelation that his parent’s had been murdered had driven her nephew to drink, how else would the barkeep know him so well? As she entered the Alley, she thanked the toothless man, making her way to the owlery she’d visited multiple times in her life but never of her own free will.

She managed to navigate the ally with a precision that made her look at home amongst the throngs of strangely dressed folks; maybe she and Lily were only as different as she had perceived them to be, not at all in reality.

Petunia came to the owlery and found there was a bit of line but those who were waiting to be served looked to ordinary not unlike herself. She joined the line behind a blond woman who looked to have filled from a recent pregnancy who was pushing a vintage stroller not that different from one she’d pushed Dudley only a few years ago, peering into the stroller she was greeted by plain and unhealthily small child with common brown hair.

“Aren’t they so precious at that age?” Petunia was perplexed, was she expected to answer and make small talk? Stephen Fry Death hadn’t mentioned other people, he had mentioned Harry explicitly but was she expected to be nice to this woman as well?

What harm might it do just once, “Yes, I remember my sweet Dudicans at that age but of course he’s grown and away from home now.”

“Are you sending that to him?” the woman gestured to the envelope she had clasped tightly in her hands and smiled sweetly, seemedly genuinely interested in the answer.

“No,” Petunia tried not to look revolted by the idea of Dudley being a freak, “it’s for my nephew, Harry Potter.”

“Oh,” her face lit up but not as brightly as that of the bar keep, “my son Kurt has a friend named Harry Potter, what are the chances?”

“What are the chances?” Petunia rolled her eyes, exhausted by the woman’s cheery disposition.

“Carole Hudson,” the woman extended a hand that Petunia reluctantly shook, “mother of two second years; Finn’s in Hufflepuff and Kurt’s in Slytherin, maybe someday little Harley will follow her older brothers off to Hogwarts.”

“Harley?” Petunia felt herself take a liking to this stranger’s child.

“Harley Drew,” the woman smiled, “We let Kurt name her.”

And just as Petunia felt herself growing somewhat interested in their conversation their individual turns came up and polite goodbyes were exchanged.

~0~

As Petunia laid in bed thinking about the day she’d just had; it was far from ordinary yet she was okay with that. She had begun the day just like any other with no intention of deviating from the norm but the circumstances had been beyond her control.

Petunia Hestia Dursley had slipped in the shower and it had turned he world upside down, her brush with Stephen Fry Death had not changed her beliefs of the world but rather her outlook on what it meant for her and her family.

Her nephew could be a freak if he likd but that didn’t besmirch who she was or detract from it; it wasn’t about whether she liked it but rather the fact that he was her sister’s son and that meant so much more.

With her mind at ease, she drifted off to sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

Hermione slipped into the seat beside him at the breakfast but did not speak, she elected to stare longingly at him instead and bite at her lip, “This isn’t about last night is it? I’ve heard worse things said about me, to me and those people meant them.”

“It’s not about that,” Hermione shook her head solemnly.

“If this is about Finn last night, I want you to know that it was beyond my control,” Kurt tweaked his hair as he spoke.

Hermione’s eyes grew wide, “What did your brother do to me?”

“He was doing handstands in the library,” Kurt winced as he recalled the previous night, “then he kind of kissed Neville Harry.”

“I’m not sure whether to be more concerned about me kissing Harry or Finn kissing Neville,” Hermione laughed the misfortune off with a shrug.

“It was with tongue,” Kurt furrowed his brow before shuddering at the memory.

Hermione seemed to look uncomfortable again and began to fiddle with her Alice band, she eventually settled on pounce hugging him, “speaking of people being items,” Hermione backed up and took a deep breath, “I overheard Katie Bell saying that Cedric Diggory and Cho Chang declared relationship status, they’re an item.”

Kurt took a deep breath as he tried not to let his shock and hurt show, “He… I… Well…” but no words came, he took a steadying breath, “If he wants to date a quidditch player then the least he could do is date a pretty one, Angelina Johnson is totally single and way prettier. Or if it’s a Ravenclaw he prefers then Padma has beauty, intelligence and a personality, something Cho is clearly missing.”

“You’re not angry?” Hermione’s words were carefully chosen and vigilantly spoken.

“Why would I be angry?” Kurt’s voice was unnatural on his ears, it was a fourth octave lower than usual, “in actual fact, I might argue that this wasn’t any of my business.”

“How so?”

“He’s not my friend,” Kurt could hear the soothing tone in his voice but it wasn’t having the desired effect, “he’s Finn’s friend, if anyone should be told it’s him.”

“He’s kind of the one who confirmed the rumours,” Hermione grimaced as she spoke, “he asked me to tell you.”

“Oh, he’s vibrating,” Finn stood a safe distance away, “I guess you told him.”

“I told him,” Hermione nodded in measure, “after he told me you made out with Neville last night, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I was telling him he would look sexy with his hair pushed back but he didn’t believe me,” Finn dropped into the seat beside Kurt as he spoke, “so I let him get to second base.”

“Did you realise at any point during that interaction that you were me?” Hermione part whispered, part screamed at the tall boy, “Or that Neville was Harry Potter?”

“I wasn’t really in the moment,” Finn argued in his defence.

“I can vouch for that,” Kurt added as he’d regained his composure, “the conversation was retrospective, we were talking about Christmas and then we ended up discussing our trip back on the Hogwarts express.”

“And then I started talking about how different Neville looked when his grandmother combed his hair,” Finn tried to explain his actions in his best soothing voice to the angry brunette, “then we were making out.”

“Kurt, Hermione,” Harry looked confused as he spoke their names, “what is this I’m hearing about me getting to second base with Hermione?”

“Wait,” Hermione who had calmed down looked on the verge of spontaneously combusting, “You let him touch my boobs?”

“Technically they were my boobs,” Finn smirked goofily but it didn’t help his case. Neville just stood at the edge of the group with his eyes widely staring at Finn, “calm down, I’m not going to kiss you again.”

“I love how casual everyone is about this,” Hermione was livid, “my body was violated and you're all treating it like some joke! Kurt, we’re going.”

“I’m expecting mail,” Kurt couldn’t understand why he was pleading but his voice was barely compling with him.

“We’ve stormed out in spirit,” Hermione crossed her arms and looked away from the group of second year boys, Kurt emulated her in solidarity. Kurt looked across the great hall, his eyes met Cedric’s for an awkward sliver of a moment but Kurt smiled like he always did and averted his gaze with a coy brush of his hair; just because there’s a goal keeper, doesn’t mean you can’t score. His gaze next landed on Pansy Parkinson’s gang and the pug faced girl sneered at her; he averted his gaze once more and landed on a group of Ravenclaw girls who were pointing at their clique and giggling, Kurt felt like there was no winning as he found himself looking back into the faces of his friends.

“This is really awkward for those of us who are innocent in this matter,” Harry pointed out to the duo but neither spoke, “Neville, do something.”

Neville gave him a disapproving look over the brim of his cup but did not speak; he had taken to silence in solidarity. As none of them spoke Kurt could hear the Hufflepuff boys at the next table speaking about them but couldn’t see who it was; only hearing his name but not the context he chose not to react but rather to pull himself toward himself.

“Finn,” Harry was obviously growing antsy as their silence wore thin on his nerves, “you have to apologise.”

Finn rolled his eyes and used his kicked puppy look, “Hermione Jean Granger, I am so sorry I let Neville Harry touch your boobs.”

“It’s okay because only Kurt saw,” Hermione unfolded her arms and gave her friends a small fleeting smile. Hermione turned to him and smiled, “about my hair.”

“What about it?” Kurt looked about it for any tragic braids which solicited a playful swat from Hermione.

“I want it finer,” she chewed her lip for a moment, “for time saving reasons.”

“Let’s call it what it is,” Kurt shrugged as he listened to his best friend trying to bullshit him, “you’re just like every other thirteen year old girl, a little vanity isn’t a sin.”

“Fine,” Hermione ducked her head slightly, “I felt Pansy’s silky hair and that’s a direction I want to be heading in but not quite as flat.”

“That’s why we’re waiting for the mail,” Kurt pursed his lips triumphantly as he preened, “I’ve been anticipating this conversation so I sent home a list of demands.”

“You’ve been anticipating Hermione having the desire to do something as superficial as changing her hair?” Neville cocked a defiant brow.

Kurt shot him a cold look, “we might have had a prelude to this conversation, are you satisfied?”

“And what did you demand on my behalf?” Finn snaked his arm over Kurt’s shoulders and tilted his head toward him.

Kurt stared intensely at his brother through hooded lids, “Don’t you have your own friends to bother?”

“I’m not talking to my friends,” Finn mumbled into his sweater.

“And why have you chosen to shun your friends?” Kurt was about to raise his left brow in curiosity but chose to instead raise a hand to stop the boy from speaking the answer to question that no longer interested him, “Why is it my problem?”

“You're the reason why.”

“Me?” Kurt raised a quizzical brow.

Finn rubbed his knuckles over the skin on the back of his neck nervously, “they’ve been saying you're the one attacking people.”

“Attacking people?” Kurt knew that his mouth had fallen open in a manner that was probably most unflattering.

Hermione interjected a defence on his behalf, “I think ‘People’ might be a bit of a stretch, there has only been one attack on a person; Peeves is a poltergeist and Mrs Norris a cat. Furthermore, Kurt is about as guilty as I am because we’re always together so if he was so much as hurting a fly I would know. Lastly-”

A loud thud cut Hermione’s rant short as a large package landed on the table beside her, “It’s here, let’s forgetting the murmurs of those less intelligent than ourselves.”

“That’s the same tone he used when last speaking to Peeves,” Kurt turned to see Nearly-Headless Nick whispering to the Fat Friar behind them, “And that’s the last time Peeves was seen.”

“As I recall,” Kurt adjusted his bangs for dramatic effect, “it was the last time your dignity was seen intact, now all that remains is… about half an inch.”

“Oh,” Hermione smiled devilishly as she took a bite of her French toast, “that is good.”

The ghosts looked mortified by the duo’s actions and floated away with an angry huff, the Fat Friar in need of consoling once more as he’d begun to weep at Hermione’s words.

“Look at them,” Kurt turned to see who was being pointed out to the masses but couldn’t say he was surprised to see Finn’s friend, Ernie Macmillan, pointing at Hermione and him as he got to his feet, “they’re terrorising everyone at Hogwarts, even the ghosts aren’t safe.”

“It was probably them last night,” Justin Finch-Fletchley, a second Hufflepuff from Finn’s clique, sneered beside him as he got to his feet beside the first boy, “the heir and company playing bad jokes.”

Kurt stared blankly as they stood at the Hufflepuff longtable as though waiting for him to retaliate but he knew better than to allow himself to be baited by such folly but he heard Finn’s pleading voice coming from behind him, “Come on guys, you're causing a scene based on circumference evidence.”

Kurt was about to correct his brother but Ernie spoke before he could, “Circumference or not, they’re doing it!”

“You need to wake up Finn,” Justin pleaded back at the tall boy, “we aren’t safe because of them.”

“He ain’t evil,” Finn dropped onto the Gryffindor bench with a small thud, “he’s my brother.”

The two boys lead out of the great hall and we’re followed by a few second year students from each of the houses.

“About the box,” Kurt turned everyone’s attention to the package sitting before them as he attempted to dissipate the tension caused by the small exchange, “I’ve been waiting for this package for almost a year.”

“What is it?” Neville leaned over to see the contents as Kurt calmly tore the wrapping and uncapped the box.

“Books?” Finn didn’t seem the least bit impressed.

“They’re the books I bought in Japan,” Kurt smiled as he started to empty the box into two piles, “Carole had them translated, duplicated and rebound; it took her a while to find somebody who could organise that for her.”

“What happened to speaking, reading and writing three languages?” Finn attempted to raise a curious brow but only managed to open his eyes abnormally wide.

“These books weren’t in any of those languages,” Kurt couldn’t help giggling at his brother’s face, he pinched the boy’s cheek playfully.

“Three languages?” Hermione had greater success raising a brow.

“My dad didn’t speak to me in English till I was three,” Kurt smiled at the thought of him doing the same with Harley, “we exclusively spoke French and German so I wouldn’t lose touch with my heritage, I had a bit of an affinity for linguistics.”

“Imagine what I go through at Christmas,” Finn interjected with an exhausted sigh, “Kurt and Oma just keep at it in german like it isn’t a thing.”

“My grandmother reads and writes Ancient Runes,” Neville added as he sipped his tea and read the morning newspaper, “she got an ‘outstanding’ in her NEWT.”

“My grandmother sounds like Hagrid,” Hermione giggled as she spoke but her smile fell almost immediately, “Don’t look now but Ginny Weasley is staring at us again.”

“I think she may just be lonely,” Harry said in a low tone, “Fred and George say she’s been devastated by the attacks, apparently she’s a cat lover and visits Mrs Norris daily in the hospital wing.”

“That’s so sweet,” Kurt and Hermione chorused with a tilt of their heads.

Kurt smiled at her, “Ginny, would you like to join us for breakfast.”

The girl looked horrified by his kindness as she shot to her feet, looking around in an antsy fashion as though confused by what was happening, “I have to go.”

Kurt watched with a slack jaw as she retreated from him and their group as if they were going to eat her, “I can’t believe this, have I got bad breath because I just offered to invent that little girl and she ran from me.”

“Look,” Finn pointed into the box as he tried to break Kurt’s concentration, “Mom found the tar hat you wanted.”

Kurt peered into the box cautiously and was pleasantly surprised to see a leather cap sitting over a white envelope, “you silly boy,” Kurt smiled even though he knew exactly what Finn was doing, “it’s ‘Tsar’, like the rulers of Imperial Russia.”

Finn placed the cap ever so delicately on Kurt’s head with a shrug, “All I know it that Nicolas didn’t wear this hat nearly as well as you do.”

“You see-” Kurt smiled broadly as his lecture died in his throat, ‘I love you too sweetheart.’

“This is addressed to Harry,” Finn held up the white envelope.

“Why would Carole write to Harry?”

“There must be a mistake,” Harry looked at the fine white stationary with wary eyes, “I don’t get mail.”

“Other than the time you got a broom that tried to kill you,” Hermione pointed out which caused the boy to retreat his extended arm.

Kurt grabbed the envelope and flipped it over, “ _if undelivered return to Petunia Dursley, 4 Privit Drive, little Whinging, Surrey_. Who’s Petunia Dursley?”

“My Aunt Petunia,” Harry’s voice was low and distant, “I’ve lived with her since my parents died.”

“You don’t speak of your life outside of Hogwarts,” Hermione leaned as she spoke in her maternal voice, “at least you’ve never mentioned her or your family to me.”

Harry looked nervous, “My aunt and uncle aren’t the kind of people you talk about, not really. Imagine if Crabbe and Daphne got married, that’s them.”

“They sound awful,” Neville shuddered at the idea.

Kurt handed him the envelope, “Read it, if she’s as bad as you say and took the time to write then it must be important.”

They all watched as Harry shakily ripped the envelope open and held the piece of simple white stationary in his trembling hands, his fingers crumpling the edge as they held on a bit too tightly. Kurt tried to gage the boy’s reactions to the letter but they changed too quickly from surprised, to mortified, to irritated, to touched and finally stopping on confused as he laid the letter on the longtable.

“So,” Neville egged him on, “can’t be worse than some of the letters I’ve gotten from my grandmother.”

“I think she’s on drugs,” Harry didn’t seem to be joking.

“My Oma’s on pills and bourbon,” Kurt shrugged, “it isn’t always a bad thing.”

“She says she forgives me for being a freak because I didn’t do it on purpose,” Harry looked confused, “she had me living in the cupboard under the stairs for a good part of my childhood and now she forgives me? And she expects me to come home for Christmas.”

“You should consult Dr Rhodes,” Kurt nodded his head as he spoke.

“Is that your solution to everything?” Harry chuckled as he spoke.

“She graduated from Oxford,” Kurt stated it as though it was a universal indicator of wisdom, “and she’s an adult but Oxford guys.”

“I don’t know,” Harry shrugged.

“Well,” Finn shrugged, “if you don’t want to talk to a qualified professional, you could always gage her behaviour over Christmas.”

“I wasn’t planning on going back.”

“And what were you supposing you’d do?” Kurt raised a concerned brow, “Were you going to stay at Hogwarts with whatever’s been attacking people?”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way,” the dark haired boy scratched the back of his neck in a similar manner to which he’d seen Finn do on countless occasions.

“Obviously not,” Kurt knew in that moment why Neville often mistook him for his Grandmother, his voice was firm and decisive yet still maternal, “We’re all going home because as the house elf told you, Hogwarts isn’t safe.”

“What else’s in there?” Finn leaned over the box in attempt redirect the conversation.

Kurt reached into the box, “A hair straightner.”

Hermione looked at the flat iron and giggled, “that’s not going to be very useful without electricity.”

“Well,” Kurt let out a defeated sigh, “there goes straight hair.”

“Where is everybody?” Hermione pulled them out of the bubble they’d created around themselves to notice, for the first time, that the great hall was deserted.

“Potions,” Neville had gone pale and was breathing shallowly, “Snape is going to eat our faces.”

“Calm down, the law doesn’t allow teachers to eat their students’ faces,” Finn was impersonating Kurt as he delivered the ludicrous statement.

 “I do not sound like that,” Kurt’s voice entered an unnaturally high octave as he spoke his defence whilst simultaneously hauling all his stuff toward the door, “Besides, there is nothing wrong with respecting authority and the rules, some might say it’s a plus.”

“Not when you break the rules as often as we do,” Hermione joked as she helped him carry the box of books down into the dungeon.

“Wait here while I go put this down,” Kurt balanced the bow on his hip and handed Hermione his purse and scurried down the corridor, he stood before the brick wall and spoke the password, “Pureblood.”

Kurt entered a scarcely populated common room, he didn’t speak to anyone but walked strong across to his shared room. When he opened the door Bomballerina pounced onto his shoulders, effectively unbalancing him as she’d grown to the size of a small tiger; she looked more like a puma then a black cat these days.

“Hi baby,” Kurt always loved the way she would behave like a cat but have the personality of a dog, “How are you? You want a treat? You want me to feed Scabbers to you?” Bomballerina purred affectionately as he scratched behind her ears, “Who’s a good kitty? Daddy has to go to class, bye-bye sweetie.”

Kurt threw her a treat and turned to leave, he made quick work of getting back to his friends and to class, “Okay let’s go.”

“Tardy,” Professor Snape looked exceptionally menacing as he moved around his desk to stand before them with his arms crossed over his chest and his jet black hair hanging like death on either side of his gaunt face, “ten points from each of you.”

“Ten points?” Ron exclaimed from across the class, “that’s like… fifty points from Gryffindor.”

“It was thirty but you just made it forty with that outburst,” the man lazily flicked his robe out of the way as he pointed a finger at Ron, “Care to go for fifty?”

 The red haired boy shook his head and Professor Snape gestured for them to take their seats, Kurt waltzed lazily to his seat in the second row, “Good morning Ronald.”

“Kurt,” the boy didn’t meet anyone else’s gaze as sulked in his seat.

“What’s wrong with you?” Kurt rolled his eyes as he covered the basis of polite conversation.

“I just feel like if two of our friends are a thing the least they could do is tell us,” Ron had his arms crossed over his chest as he mumbled.

“I don’t see any reason why anyone would be talking when you should be copying the notes on the Wiggenweld Potion from the board,” Professor Snape didn’t even look up from his work but Kurt knew the man was speaking directly to their clique, “I don’t see how talking fits into that equation.”

“Ugh,” Kurt rested his head on his intertwined fingers, “I don’t have the energy to deal with this again.”

“Ron,” Neville spoke on his behalf, “You do recall the fact that at the time of said incident both mentioned friends were in your presence and as I hear it, far from friendly. On the other hand, Finn and I have decided to just be friends.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” Kurt was cracking his neck as he spoke when something hit the back of head, “Who threw that? Who’s ready to find out if there is a maker?”

Kurt looked at the crumpled piece of paper as it twitched on his table until it managed to unwrap itself, the dishevelled parchment slowly rose off the desk and spoke in a shrill distorted voice, like radio with a broken speaker;

“This is a cordial invitation to all who may be interested to attend Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin Third Class, Honorary member of the Dark Arts Defence League, Bestselling author, and five time winner of Witch Weekly’s most charming smile’s Duelling Club. This will be a space where I, Gilderoy Lockhart, will share my expertise on dealing with the dark arts in light of recent events. All those interested can sign up on the attached sheet, meetings will be Wednesdays for juniors and Thursdays for seniors. Regards, Gilderoy Lockha-”

The parchment coughed halfway through the man’s last name and burst into flames, Professor Snape flicked his wand lazily and the parchment reformed from the ashes in pristine condition, “Sign your names and only your names when the parchment comes around to your desks, I’m sure the duelling club would be quite useful if the Heir of Slytherin were a student.”

“Wait,” Ron seemed to have had an epiphany of sorts, “What about you two?”

He was pointing one finger at Kurt and the other at Harry, “I’m going to say this once, be sure to listen; we’re all just as single as you are, we aren’t dating in any combination.”

~0~

Kurt was stuffing his notes back into his bag as he left his last lesson of the day when he was startled back to reality by his collision with a solid body, his eyes flashed up to offer an apology but the words died in his throat as he looked into Cedric’s hazel eyes.

“Kurt,” the boy gave him a flash of what would probably someday be Witch Weekly’s most charming smile, “what are the chances of bumping into you here?”

“Considering that you’ve been pacing in the doorway of a second year Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom for the last five minutes,” Kurt smiled in a predatory fashion but didn’t let it reach his eyes, “my guess is pretty high.”

Cedric tightened his lips into a flat line as he nervously shifted his weight from toe to heel, “I’m looking for Finn, it’s about quidditch.”

“And that’s why you let him walk right by you ahead of me,” Kurt raised a quizzical brow before turning to leave, “I’ll be sure to mention to Finn that you weren’t looking particularly hard for him.”

Kurt began walking toward the Great Hall for lunch but was startled by Cedric jogging up alongside him, “Are we okay?”

“I’m just fine,” Kurt smiled at the taller boy before placing the back of his hand over the boy’s forehead, “You on the other hand are acting quite odd, are you well? You don’t have a fever.”

“I’m fine,” the boy smirked at him, “I know we’re both individually well but how are ‘we’ in a broader context?”

“Could we speak in a more specific context?”

“I just haven’t seen you much since…” the taller boy’s voice trailed off.

Kurt caught the implicate tone of the entire conversation from the go but knew this was as explicate as the older boy would get, “since Chodric?”

“Chodric?” the boy looked confused but Kurt knew he was smart enough to decipher it on his own, “yes, of course.”

“Sweetheart,” Gave the Hufflepuff a patronising smile, “I’m an adult.”

“You’re twelve.”

“It’s been three days and we haven’t seen each other because you’re busy with your life and I’m busy being accused of attacking Hogwarts residents,” Kurt laid an assuring hand on Cedric’s shoulder, “whatever tension or discourse there is between us is in your head.”

“So we’re okay?” the boy looked concerned which made Kurt wonder for a moment whether to ease his burdens or let him suffer.

“We’re just as we’ve always been,” Kurt giggled as the boy let out a sigh of relief.

Cedric smiled broadly and ran his fingers through his hair, “Great, that’s just great! I will see you on Saturday.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kurt pursed his lips and walked off.

“Nice hat,” the boy called after him.

Kurt was startled for the third time when a small distant voice spoke beside him, “Cute boy, is he your boyfriend.”

“Oh for the love of Prince Harry,” Kurt clutched his chest in shock as he looked the familiar little girl over but unable to place her.

“Oh,” her voice was high and musical, “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“These things happen in threes for me,” he waved the doe eyed girl’s worries away, “I’m sorry but I can’t put a name to the face.”

“Luna Lovegood,” looked up to him from under her heavy platinum blond bangs, “I’m the girl who told your red-haired friend to be quiet in the library.”

“Oh yes, we were never introduced,” he smiled and extended his hand, “Kurt Elizabeth Hummel.”

“I know who you are,” she smiled at him, “your reputation precedes you.”

“Only good things I hope.”

“Other than the whole being the Heir of Slytherin bit,” she nervously bounced from side which made her pale waist length lock shimmer in the light, “you’re the best in your year.”

“Hermione Granger is best in our year,” Kurt smiled genuinely as spoke the words.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” she stopped him and stared into his soul with her orbs of molten silver, Kurt knew in that moment how people felt when he looked at them, “Why Slytherin and not Ravenclaw? The top students of every year except yours are in Ravenclaw.”

“I was almost in Ravenclaw,” Kurt smiled, she was the first person to ask him that question but it was something he’d thought of on many occasions as that very question sometimes bothered him but over time his answer had changed as he became more comfortable with the idea of being Slytherin being about him as opposed to some other unknown factor, “I was a little short of a hatstall between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor but my ambition made me perfect Slytherin material.”

“Hmm,” she seemed to mull the idea over in her mind, “I don’t have the same attitude as most about Slytherin house but I guess I’d never fully considered that the other facets of your character contributed to your placement, Quibbler?”

Kurt looked at the literature he was handed by the small girl, it was a glossy magazine with Professor Dumbledore on the cover under the caption; ‘How safe are our children at Hogwarts?’

“There’s some about you, Hermione and Harry stopping Professor Quirrel last year,” she beamed up at him, “my dad’s the editor so he published my piece.”

Kurt held up a finger as he riffled though his handbag for the final envelope, “I have something for your father.” He handed her his final ‘golden ticket’ and tapped it with his wand, “Now, would you care to join me for lunch?”

“I’d love to,” she smiled broadly, “I hope your brother’s there, he’s cute.”

Kurt was surprised by her statement for a moment but as he thought about it harder he realised that the words were true, he never saw Finn as anything but the little boy who’d because he shiny, “I guess he is.”

“Hi Hermione, Neville, this is Luna Lovegood, I invited her to join us for lunch,” Kurt looked over his pair of friends as he spoke, “Scoot over, so we can sit,” he said as he slipped in between Neville and Hermione but he noticed that they both deflated just a little. Kurt eyed his two closest friends suspiciously, “Actually, Luna and I are going to sit on the other side of the table.”

Kurt climbed over the table and Luna followed suit, “It’s nice to meet you both.”

“It’s nice to meet you too Luna,” Hermione slid back into the space beside Neville as she spoke, “I remember you from Saturday in the library, you mentioned the enslavement off house elves and I was wondering if you could tell me more about it.”

“Oh sure,” Luna smiled, “I even have a couple of articles from the quibbler in my room I could show you.”

“The quibbler?” Hermione looked as confused as Kurt had felt when he’d first laid eyes on the magazine.

“It’s a crazy wizarding magazine,” Neville went straight into an explanation as if attempting to impress with his new knowledge retention, “the editor used to be a high-ranking ministry official until he lost his marbles and started that magazine, his name is Xenophilius Lovegood… but those are just my grandmother’s beliefs, she isn’t very tolerant of anything really, I’m yet to form my own opinions as I’ve never read the Quibbler.”

Luna simply laughed as Neville turn bright red, “You’re funny.”

“The three of us are quite curious as to the intricacies of the enslavement of house elves maybe we could schedule a meeting and you could tell us more about it,” Kurt smiled at her.

“What are you being told about?” Finn forced himself between Kurt and Luna.

“We’re scheduling an intellectually stimulating conversation about the enslavement of house elves,” Neville replied with a curt smile.

“I think Cedric’s calling my name,” Finn cupped his hand behind his ear as though he was struggling to hear something, he started walking off but stopped a few paces away turned one-eighty, “I forgot my manners; hi, I’m Finn and it’s nice to meet you.”

He extended his hand toward Luna, Kurt watched as her cheeks turned rosy in reply as she shook his hand with a whispered, “Luna Lovegood.”

~0~

Kurt took a deep breath, show time.

“Good Afternoon First, second and third years.” Professor Lockhart swished his lavender robes in a fashion that even a matador would envy, he pulled at the drawstring and threw it into the crowd in one swift movement; a gaggle of giggling Gryffindor girls caught the cloak, “Professor Dumbledore has given me permission to start this little club so as to equip you with the necessary skills to defend yourselves against this supposed Heir of Slytherin.” Kurt heard swoons and whistles from the crowd, “Kurt Hummel, Junior World Champion duellist, has volunteered to be my assistant.”

“I’m doing this as community service,” Kurt whispered to the man who paid him no mind.

“Yes,” he threw a gold clad arm over Kurt’s shoulder and smiled, “I’m glad to have you here as well. I want to begin with a demonstration of what a duel should look like.”

“Finn and I can do the demonstration,” Kurt waved his brother over.

“Rematch?” Finn’s brows danced invitingly as he spoke.

Kurt adjusted an imaginary stray hair, “rematch.”

“I want you all to note the proper etiquette when duelling,” Lockhart stood off to the side as the boys took their positions.

Kurt raised his perfectly cylindrical bone white wand with a touch too much flare, he bowed to his brother and took his standard starting position with the grace of the ballerina he’d once been:

Kurt was first to cast a spell, “Incendio.”

“Aguamenti,” Finn spoke the words quickly as though anticipating Kurt’s actions.

The stream of flames met the spout of water in mid-air and resulted in the first stalemate of their duel.

“Verdimillious,” Finn pointed to Kurt’s chest.

“Protego,” Kurt blocked the spell quickly and almost too easily.

“Stupify,” they spoke the same spell at the same time, effectively knocking each other off their feet; the second stalemate.

Both boys scrambled back to their feet and spoke their next spell at the same time, “Expilliarmus.”

Both their wands went flying from their hands and into the crowd; the third stalemate. Finn taunted him with a shrug, “I guess this is where it ends.”

“Maybe for you,” Kurt smirked as he extended his right palm toward his brother, “Incendio.”

As the flames shot from Kurt’s extended arm toward his brother, Finn thought on his feet, “Accio wand.” As soon as the wand was within his grasp he spoke his next command, “Protago.”

The flames were deflected but Kurt kept firing them as he summoned his wand with his free hand, as the cold white wood touched his hands he desisted with the flames, with a single slash of his wand and a flash of purple light he’d spoken what would be his final spell, “Aculeus.” Finn twitched in place before falling to his knees as Kurt’s curse did its work, “Finite incantatem.”

“Do you always have to win?” Finn asked him with a goofy smile as Kurt helped him to his feet.

“I prefer it to the alternate,” Kurt smiled as he adjusted his hat, “Maybe next time I’ll let you win.”

“You wish,” Finn extended his hand as though to ruffle Kurt’s hair but his actions were intercepted by a sharp look from the shorter boy, “I let you win.”

“Take your bows and enjoy your fifteen minutes of fame,” Lockhart spoke to them through a false smile as he laid a congratulatory hand on each of their shoulders before turning to the crowd, “Wasn’t that quite the display, let’s give our volunteers a round of applause. Kurt worked exactly as instructed, showing you the key weapons in the arsenal of every duellist; the blocking spell, the stunning spell and the disarming charm.” Kurt watched silently as Professor Lockhart claimed glory for his work and was amazed at how well he did it, “I’ve further asked Kurt to explain how each of these spells work so that you all have the confidence, knowing that you don’t have to be a world famous wizard like myself to pull them off.”

“Right, because I’m the one who might struggle with mastering these remedial spells,” Kurt had to restrain himself from rolling his eyes at the man’s arrogance, “Wouldn’t you like to explain some of the etiquettes and formalities involved in duelling.”

“Very well,” the man twirled his hand elegantly, like a dancer, before adjusting a golden curl, “if you insist. Before beginning a duel you stand across from your partner and hold out your wand like so,” He held his wand in front of his face from across the platform and bowed, “you follow this up with a bow and you begin duelling on the mark.”

For a moment Kurt was perplexed, where had this man who had effortlessly explained the formalities of duelling come from because Kurt had never seen him in a Defence Against the Dark Arts class. Kurt quickly regained his composure when realising that he’d missed his queue, “Okay, let me dive right into the deep end; the stunning spell is all about power and concentration because it can easily go sideways if performed incorrectly. You concentrate on stunning your opponent, be precise with your wand movement, a vertical flick of the wrist from top to bottom, and deliver the incantation; remember what Professor Flitwick always says, annunciate.”

Kurt demonstrated the spell on a dummy that had been organised, “You apply the same principal to the disarming charm,” Kurt demonstrated with as little flair as he could muster, “a simple rotational flick of the wrist is all you need. Your final must have is a shielding charm, this is very difficult so it wouldn’t be surprising if you struggled with it.” Kurt performed the spell for all of them to see, “this wrist movement is a vertical flick from bottom to top, concentration is key.”

“Thank you for that Kurt, isn’t he just great?” the crowd elected for silence rather than disappoint Professor Lockhart, “Now let’s have a pair of volunteers, Harry my boy. Do we have a challenger?” people mostly shuffled nervously as Harry made his way onto the platform, “Come on ladies, let’s not be damsels in distress.”

“I’ll take a whack at it,” Draco Malfoy climbed elegantly onto the platform.

“We got Chal-len-ger!” Professor Lockhart gestured for the crowd to cheer and they didn’t disappoint. Lockhart brought both boys to the centre and began to loudly explain the rules to the pair, “Alright, remember to keep it clean, the aim is to disarm not harm.”

Harry and Draco moved to stand on opposite ends of the platform, they presented their wands and bowed to each other; Lockhart counted them down and the duel began.

Harry began to speak his first spell, “Exp-”

“Stupify,” Draco cut him off with more agile casting, smething he’d clearly been working on since his defeat at the hands of Hermione, Harry was knocked off his feet and across the room.

Harry quickly got back on his feet and countered with the quick reflexes that had erned him his spot on the Gryffindor quidditch team, “Avis, Opogno.”

A small flock of multi-coloured hummingbirds shot from the tip of Kurt’s wand and flew straight at Draco, proceeding to peck at his head. Draco looked to be angry as the masses laughed at him, he swatted the birds from existence, “petrificus totalus.”

“Protago,” Harry moved quickly and once more it was to his benefit.

“Serpensortia,” Draco spoke the words angrily and a large black snake appeared a couple of feet from Harry, the whole room was spooked and with good reason as the snake was quite large.

Professor Lockhart stepped forward, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” He pointed his wand at it, “Alerte Ascendare.”

The snake was thrown ten feet in the air but came straight down looking angrier than before, it lurched toward Lockhart and he jumped back with a small scream. The snake turned its attention toward the students in the front row, more specifically Justin Finn-Fletchley.

“No,” Harry whispered to the snake, “Don’t, stop, calm down nobody here means you any harm.”

Kurt rolled his eyes, “Well, if you whisper it won’t here you.”

“Stop, don’t attack, everyone here’s cool,” Harry continued whispering, “Calm down, let’s talk this out.”

The snake moved slowly toward the scared second year Hufflepuff, “You clearly suck at persuasion.” Kurt directed his first statement to Harry before turning and pointing his wand at the snake, “Ouroboros.”

The snake looked almost afraid for a moment before bowing its head, the snake lurched for its tail and slowly started biting at it, they all watched as the snake ate itself out of existence.

“What are you two playing at?” Justin shouted at them with sweat beaded across his forehead.

“Hey,” Kurt frowned and crossed his arms, “we just did you a favour, how’s about a thank you?”

“How is setting a snake on me a favour?” Kurt was confused by the question but chose to say no more as Lockhart dismissed the large group to their afternoon activities with the request that they practice before their next meeting.

“Kurt, Harry,” Ron called out as he pushed through the masses over toward them.

“Ron,” Harry smiled at the familiar face, “Let’s go outside, maybe go see Hagrid.”

“Or we could play some chess,” Hermione nervously suggested having seemingly materialized from nowhere with a save.

“Or go to the library,” Kurt added as he and Hermione exchanged knowing looks.

It was Ron who interjected, “Or you two could tell us why you’ve been keeping the fact that you're parselmouths from us.”

“Is that why we sounded like we were whispering,” Kurt face palmed, “I’m so great at everything that I’m actually not surprised that I’ve been gifted such a rare skill.”

“What is everybody on about?” Harry looked so confused as Hermione and Kurt steered their quartet to the library, away from Hagrid’s hut.

“Snake language,” Ron said as though it were the most obvious thing ever.

“Maybe I am a linguistic prodigy,” Kurt carried on talking to himself, “I should go to Oxford and have myself tested.”

“Kurt this isn’t about you or your obsession with Oxford,” Hermione raised a silencing hand, “This is about the fact that everyone is going to think that you’re descendants of Salazar Slytherin.”

“He’s one of the most parselmouths in history,” Kurt suddenly snapped out of his cloud of ego and realised the reality, “that’s why Slytherin’s crest has twin serpents on it.”

“And he lived long enough ago for it to be a possibility,” Hermione pointed out.

“More so for me,” Kurt started feeling dizzy as he took shallow breaths, “this not knowing who my parents are thing makes anything a possibility.”

“But you’re not doing this,” Ron laid a comforting hand on his shoulder but it didn’t ease his worries, “we’ve been with you before every attack, if you are the heir then maybe the chamber is autonomous.”

“He used the word correctly,” Kurt smiled as he was sweating and clutching at his chest.

“Kurt are you having a panic attack?” Hermione checked his pulse and looked very concerned.

“I’ll go get help,” Harry ran off.

“I think I’m having an angina attack!”

“You don’t have an angina,” Ron pointed out falsely.

“You’re so stupid!” Kurt growled between gritted teeth as the darkness consumed him and the final thing he heard was a distantly whispered ‘kill’.

~0~

Kurt had been kept in the hospital wing away from stress for the remainder of the week and the weekend, Madam Pomfrey had finally been forced to release him on Monday so he could take the Hogwarts express home for Christmas. Kurt had learned that whilst he was having a panic attack Justin Finn-Fletchley and Nearly-Headless Nick had been petrified, most believed that he’d faked the attack and was simply covering his own behind as he’d been seen publicly quarrelling with both victims. Finn had packed his stuff and was waiting for him on the platform, glowing after their teams great triumph over the Ravenclaw side.

“I missed you so much,” the boy squeezed him tightly, lifting him off the platform of the Hogsmead station.

Kurt chuckled, “You came to visit me every day.”

“It wasn’t the same,” He led Kurt onto the scarlet steamliner and into a crowded compartment filled with his closest friends.

Kurt smiled brightly at them, “thanks to all of you for keeping me in the loop even though you were told not to, I promise I will make it up to all of you?”

“We aren’t any closer to finding the heir, clearing our names or stopping the attacks but glad to see you're okay,” Harry seemed almost patronising in his tone.

“We’ll take care of it after Christmas,” Kurt smiled weakly, “Right now we have to spend time with our families, even the parts of it we hate.”

“Who do you hate?” Finn raised a brow much too similarly to him.

“Your cousin Larry,” Kurt shuddered as he said the boy’s name, “He’s such a snob.”

“You’re a snob,” Hermione pointed out with a smile.

“Yes, but I’m pretty,” Kurt chuckled as he tried to copy Pansy Parkinson’s shrilly vapid voice, “with a face like mine I could get away with anything.”

The whole compartment guffawed at his bad impersonation.

“Kurt sure is beautiful,” Neville did a strangely accurate Goyle.

“Guys that isn’t funny,” Kurt spoke the words but couldn’t stop himself from laughing let alone his friends.


	8. Chapter 8

Kurt still felt rested from Christmas break even weeks afterwards, going home had been just what he needed; he’d gotten a haircut, a large pile of Christmas gifts, his standard eighty pounds from his many sets of grandparents and he’d spent time with his dad. True, the term had gotten off to a slow start but the attacks seemed to have stopped for a while as they had made it to February without incident, the three victims from the last two weeks of last term must have been enough to satisfy the heir for now. Unfortunately for Kurt a very many rules had been put into place to inhabit his freedom; they had to be escorted from class to class by a member of staff, they couldn’t leave their common rooms after six o’clock and the implementation of a buddy system for going to the bathroom, Kurt had the misfortune of being paired with Blaise Zabini who was almost as self-centred as Draco Malfoy. Kurt was glad that even for just this moment, there was a semblance of normality and he could read his books in peace.

“Reading at breakfast?” Kurt nearly spilled his cereal as he was brought back to reality quite abruptly.

“Gosh Finn, what happened to you warning me in my head when you were going to sneak up on me?” Kurt placed the book flat on the longtable.

“What are you reading anyway?” Finn tried to lift the book to see the cover but Kurt simply pinned the book to the desk, “Don’t make me use my superior strength.”

“Why don’t you spend the beginning of valentine’s weekend with a girl or Neville instead of bothering me,” Kurt tried to body check his brother away from his book, “maybe you could send a singing dwarf telegram.”

“Neville and I decided to just be friends,” Finn was persistent in his pushing, “he just wanted me for my body.”

“Hermione’s body you mean,” Kurt corrected as he jabbed his brother in the stomach, “I think they may like each other actually.”

“No way,” Finn was standing off to the side as he spoke in a sarcastic tone, “Did you figure that out all by yourself?”

“Actually it was Luna who told me,” Kurt pursed his lips angrily as he straightened himself up.

Quicker than lightning Finn snatched the book from in front of him, “Got it, what are you reading little brother?”

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Kurt tried to reach for the book but Finn held it out of his reach.

“ _Dark Arts for All,_ ” Finn chuckled nervously, “What is this?”

“I got it in Japan last year,” Kurt knew he had no reason to be on the defensive but he couldn’t help himself, “it’s magic that is considered dark but that has everyday applications, that’s a poor translation of the title.”

“You don’t know Japanease,” Finn held the book over his head so Kurt couldn’t snatch it away, “How do you know what the title said.”

“It was in Arabic,” Kurt corrected as he analysed the situation to see how he might get the book back without making a spectacle of himself, “I don’t know exactly what it means but I get the gist of the book.”

“Tell me,” Finn opened to the page his bookmark was in, “How do you use the… oh, a whole chapter on how to use blood in magic, how does that come up in everyday life?”

“It’s for when you cut yourself,” Kurt knew he was lying but he felt such guilt for dabbling in the dark arts, “you use your blood to heal the cut.”

“This seems rather suspect bro,” Finn shook his head as he gave Kurt back his book.

“Your face seems suspect,” Kurt put the book safely in his Burkin, “And don’t call me bro when I’m mad at you.”

“Why you mad boo?” Finn pinched at his cheeks.

“I’m so over you,” Kurt grabbed his bag to storm off but there was a dwarf in his way, it was dressed as cupid and holding a harp.

“ _Tale as old as time, True as it can be. Barely even friends,_ ” the dwarf sang in an off key falsetto at an off tempo, “ _Then somebody bends, Unexpectedly._ ”

Kurt turned to get away from the dwarf and there was a second dwarf behind him, rendering him trapped; the second dwarf sang in an gravely baratone, “ _Just a little change, Small, to say the least. Both a little scared, Neither one prepared, Beauty and the Beast._ ”

“No,” Kurt’s eyes grew wide as realisation dawned on him, “For the love of Celine Dion, No!”

The Dwarves in cased him between their arms as they attempted to harmonise, “ _Ever just the same, Ever a surprise. Ever as before, Ever just as sure, As the sun will rise._ ”

“Somebody save me from this musical blood bath,” Kurt called out but everybody just watched in amusement as he slowly bubbled. He tried to step over their arms but they spread out and stood blocking his way, he resigned to his fate, sat down and endured the singing as his anger grew. As the dwarf with the harp played the final chords of the song Kurt rose to his feet and strode around the front of the sparsely populated great hall to the Slytherin table, when he broke his silence his voice was unexpectedly calm and level, “Gregory, I think it would be best for both parties concerned if you left me alone, I find you repugnant.”

Kurt turned on his heels and walked away before the larger boy could say anything more. As he was leaving the dining hall he was grabbed by two sets of hands.

“So?” Fred asked enthusiastically.

“What did you think of our Valentine’s Day prank?” George smiled broadly.

“Hermione told us you liked that song,” Fred looked mighty pleased with himself.

“The rest just fell into place,” they chorused as they high-fived at Kurt’s horrified look.

“But know this,” George boke their celebration.

“We only think of you as a friend,” Fred added but Kurt didn’t move nor say anything in reply.

“I think you broke him,” they chorused before looking to each other accusingly, “Me? You did it! Me? It was your idea! My idea? You app-”

“Be quiet,” Kurt covered their mouths with his hands, “I don’t care about whose idea it was, I called an innocent boy repugnant and it’s all your fault.” They tried to mumble something through his hands but Kurt wasn’t hearing it, “You should have added that it was from you.” Fred licked his palm, “that’s disgusting!” Kurt pulled out a wet wiped from his hand bag and sanitized his hands, then he rubbed hand cream over them as the twins watched him with curiously, “What do you have to say for yourselves?”

“We’re sorry you were a bitch to some innocent kid,” George casually shrugged.

Fred raised an interjectory finger, “but it’s not our fault you're a bitch.”

“I can’t deal with this, three weeks into the new term and this shit happens,” Kurt rolled his eyes and grabbed each of the twins by the ears, “I want to make something very clear.”

“Don’t touch the merchandise!” Fred protested as Kurt pulled both boys down to eye level.

“You break it,” George grunted between gritted teeth, “you buy it.”

Kurt smiled as he looked from one boy to the next and twisted the rapidly reddening skin of their earlobes, he whispered ever so delicately, “you’re on my list,” before releasing both boys.

“Ooh,” George twinkled his fingers patronisingly, “your list.”

Fred smacked his hands down, “now, is this your list of people to petrify?”

“Or is it one of faces to burn?” George called after Kurt who was on his way to Charms.

“Is it the one Cedric Diggory’s on?” Fred called as he went around the bend, he dared not allow himself to be bated by their taunts.

As Kurt went around the corner he was greeted by the second lot of Weasley kids and Harry huddled about suspiciously, “And why weren’t any of you at breakfast this morning? Do you have any idea what I just went through? Beauty and the Beast will never be the same as a song or a movie.”

“Well,” rubbed the back of his neck rigorously, “We’ve kind of been avoiding Lockhart’s dwarves like the plague.”

“We overheard Fred and George saying they were sending one as a joke,” Ron looked distressed as he spoke, “we couldn’t risk the public embarrassment.”

“I was the target, there I was with two dwarves cornering me in plain sight of everyone,” Kurt adjusted his spectacles, as he now favoured them from time to time, “I’ve never been so embarrassed in my life, did you not for a moment think to inform me of this discovery?” The pair of boy’s mumbled their apologies. “What’s going on here?”

“Ginny was about to tell us a secret,” Ron looked about for the young girl but in the time of Kurt’s rant both the younger and older Weasleys had disappeared, “Oh, I guess not.”

“That was strange,” Harry pointed out, “Even for Percy’s standards.”

“Think nothing of it,” Kurt waved his hand dismissively, “probably trivial teenage gossip.”

“Isn’t it all just,” Ron rolled his eyes, “What do you think is going to be in today’s charms test?”

Harry shrugged as they made their way to their Charms lesson, “Not a clue.”

“What Hermione and I taught you should be sufficient,” Kurt stopped dead in his tracks from the lack of acknowledgement, “Do you guys remember any of it? Skurge, engorgement, dancing-feet, arresto momentum, memory charms? Does any of this ring a bell?”

“We can’t all be geniuses,” Ron gave him a playful shove.

“Hermione’s the genius,” Kurt knew that his cheeks were a violent crimson, he adjusted his hair with great precision, “I just have great memory and a hungry mind.”

“It’s all the same,” Ron dropped into the seat beside Kurt, he had relinquished his usual seat beside Neville so that Hermione might enjoy his company whilst her infatuation bloomed. Kurt had no qualms that his friend’s dance about each other would go nowhere, if not for his guiding hand; for that he had resigned himself to getting to know Ron Weasley better. “Are you excited to see Gryffindor decimate Hufflepuff next Saturday?”

“I would sooner chew glass than draw any kind joy from the supposed decimation of my brother,” Kurt tilted his head and smiled at the tactless ginger.

“If you had the siblings I have you’d feel differently,” Kurt raised a curious brow so as to egg the boy on, “Bill was head boy, Charlie was Quidditch captain, Percy’s a goody-two-shoes, Fred and George torture me mercilessly, and Ginny’s just strange.”

“At least I know now that I’m not missing much on the sibling front with just Finn and Harley,” Kurt giggled, “I wonder what she’ll be like when she’s grown, I hope nothing like Ginny because no offense but your sister is strange.”

“Hey,” Ron swatted his shoulder playfully, “that’s only okay when I say it.”

“Silence,” diminutive Professor Flitwick stood before the class with cheery disposition, “Standard test conditions apply; no talking or communicating any form, keep your eyes to yourself and good luck second years.”

And with a flick of his wand test papers flew about the room.

~0~

“It was Hagrid,” Kurt dropped the book he was reading as his attention was drawn away from his breakfast by Harry’s whispered declaration.

“What was Hagrid?” Hermione looked nervously from Kurt to Harry.

“It was Hagrid who opened the Chamber of Secret in the nineteen-forties,” Harry’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Kurt let out a sigh of relief, “Thank god you finally figured it out, keeping you away from him has been so much hard work.”

“It literally felt like you wanted to go down to his hut every damn day!” Hermione rolled her eyes with huff.

“Wait,” Ron pointed from one to the other, “How did you guys know?”

“We figured it out a little after Halloween,” Hermione shrugged nonchalantly.

Kurt gestured for them to lean in closer, “It’s why he was expelled, it’s why he can’t do magic.”

“I don’t understand,” Ron furrowed his brow.

“Do you remember when he showed us his pumpkin patch?”

Harry chortled, “Most anticlimactic moment of the year.”

“I don’t know,” Ron shrugged, “I think the whole Quirrel instead of Snape thing might have been a tad more anticlimactic for me.”

Kurt shrugged, “I’m with Ron on this one, that was truly the most disappointing revelation of ninety-one.”

“Let’s call it the academic year,” Harry shook his head dismissively, “As you were.”

“So you mention that Hagrid can’t do magic,” Hermione continued undeterred by their tangential spat, “Which peaked Kurt’s curiosity.”

“I wanted to know why a wizard might not be permitted to practice magic,” Kurt shrugged, “Turns out there are only two reasons; expulsion before completing your OWLs and imprisonment in Azkaban for a second level crime.”

“Second level crime?” Harry’s eyes were as wide as saucers behind his spectacles.

“Kurt wasn’t very interested in that,” Hermione shot him a look of disapproval, “I, on the other hand, was curios, so I went to the library.”

“And?” Ron egged her on.

“Criminal Offenses are sorted into a three tier system by the Ministry of Magic,” Hermione tucked a tuft of hair behind her ear as she spoke, “the first level is petty and civil crimes; anything with a jail time of under five years. The second level are the use of restricted magic, violent crimes and organized crime; this is jail time of five to fifteen years and you can never do magic again. The third level is the darkest of magic, the unforgivable curses, murder, rape and conspiracy against the ministry; these have a life sentence on them.”

“Whilst Hermione received a lesson in civics,” Kurt was goading her because her reactions were so much fun, “I checked the Hall of Records for Hagrid’s tenure at Hogwarts and learned that it was cut short in his third year, the year the Chamber of Secrets was last opened; then we put one and one together.”

“You guys knew this and you didn’t tell us?” Ron looked wounded.

Hermione tilted her head and raised an eyebrow, “Would you have believed us? If a month ago Kurt and I had come to you, and told you that Hagrid was responsible for the attacks on muggle born students in the nineteen-forties; would you have accepted it?”

“We wouldn’t have,” Harry’s voice was unsettlingly steady, “we would have thought you had lost your mind.”

“Exactly,” Kurt picked up his book and carried on reading, “we were in a Catch-22 situation.”

“Nobody knows what that means,” Ron shook his head.

Kurt dropped his book once again, “No, actually, almost everyone knows what it means because it’s common logic.”

“Don’t you two start,” Hermione slammed her hand on the longtable with a disciplinary tone that startled both Kurt and Ron, “We’ll have none of your squabbling, you two honestly argue like an old married couple.”

Kurt looked scandalised by Hermione’s words, “I would never marry Ron!”

“I’m not exactly crazy about you either,” Ron retaliated defensively.

“Well,” Kurt scoffed, “that’s lucky for you because I’m so out of your league.”

“Really?” Ron shouted back, “Well… well… well-”

“Enough,” Harry cut through their arguing, “We’ll go see Hagrid in the evening.”

“I’m not doing that,” Kurt pursed his lips and wagged his finger dismissively, “Best case scenario, he was crazy and he’ll be angry we know. Worst case scenario, he’s still crazy and kills us as well.”

“As well?” Ron’s voice squeaked loudly.

“Somebody died the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened,” Hermione spoke before Kurt could in an obvious attempt to curb any bickering.

“If somebody died,” Harry raised a brow, “How did he get away with it?”

“They probably didn’t have enough evidence for a proper conviction,” Kurt suggested as he took to reading his book again.

Hermione, in an obvious effort to close the conversation, spoke dismissively, “We’ll have to ask him.”

“You’ve lost your mi-” Kurt dropped his book for the third time as he was silenced by a towel clad Neville coming toward them, “Does anyone else see it?”

“See wha-” Hermione turned casually but turned back halfway, “that is definitely happening but why?”

“Neville,” Ron wheezed out between raucous fits of laughter, “Why are you naked?”

“I, unlike someone we know,” crossed his arms indignantly, “value good hygiene.”

“Yes sweetheart,” Kurt knew better than to laugh, “but why are you here?”

Ron turned to Kurt with wide eyes, “Why does he get ‘sweetheart’ and I get ‘Ronald’?”

Kurt raised a dismissive hand, “be quiet Ronald, as you were.”

“Well,” Neville who had squeezed between Ron and Kurt, “I simply came to tell Harry that his room had been ransacked.”

The round faced boy got up and strolled lazily away, not long after the three Gryffindors hastily followed him out the Great Hall.

~0~

Kurt was cautiously tried to keep in step with his friends as they tried to make their way to Hagrid’s hut under Harry’s large and tent-like cloak, they had fallen at least once due to their combined clumsiness.

“That’s my foot,” Hermione hissed at Harry who shrugged a whispered apology.

Getting down to Hagrid’s hut had been an arduous task and Kurt was pleased to know that first part of their journey was over. Harry reached out knocked on the hut door. Hagrid violently swung the door open with a crossbow in hand, he lowered it when he didn’t see anybody at the door.

Harry pulled the cloak away to make their presence known; Hagrid stared at them in amazement, not moving. Harry was first to speak in a tone that he might have borrowed from Kurt himself, “Aren’t you going to let us in? Or shall we just have this conversation out in the open?”

“Sorry,” Hagrid shrank away from the door he had successfully barricaded with his sheer size, “Do come in, I’ll put on a pot of tea.”

“None for me,” Kurt raised a dismissive hand as they entered what Kurt would have defined as the great room of the modest cabin, “I’m cutting down and I had a cup at lunch.”

The quartet made themselves comfortable around the crowded kitchen table; Kurt was grateful for his advantageous height as it minimalized his struggle with the enlarged furniture, Hermione had a bit of difficulty retaining her grace as she mounted the homemade chair.

“Haven’t had you guys around here in a bit,” Hagrid chortled nervously as he riffled about the piles of stuff that filled every surface of the hut.

“We’ve been avoiding you,” Hermione didn’t seem the least bit apologetic for her biting honesty.

Ron cleared his throat to cut off Hermione as she moved to continue with her brutal honesty, “Harry and I didn’t know we were avoiding you, we were just following Kurt and Hermione’s instructions.”

“Yes,” Kurt shot Ron a disapproving look, “alright we’re the bad guys.”

Harry nervously rubbed the nape of his neck before beginning to speak, “Hagrid, I’m afraid this isn’t a social call.”

“What can I do you for?” Hagrid giggled nervously as he tried to fill the kettle with shaking hands, “I’m an open book.”

“Why were you expelled?” Kurt looked at him through hooded eyes.

Hagrid dropped the pitcher of water that he was using to fill the kettle with loud clang, “That book is closed.”

“Were you expelled for opening the Chamber of Secrets?” Hermione didn’t miss a beat as she and Harry helped him clean up the mess he’d made.

“You see the thing about that is-”

“Spare us,” Kurt raised a dismissive hand, “Is it why you were expelled?”

“Yes,” Hagrid started to sniff loudly, “but-”

There came three loud raps on the front door and the quartet were startled as nobody besides them ever came down here this late, “Hagrid! I decree that you open this door by order of Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic, Order of Merlin First Class, etcetera etcetera.”

“I think you four best make yourselves scarce,” Hagrid whispered ushering them into a corner, “Just a moment.”

They huddled into the corner and Kurt mouthed a ‘We are not finished’ as Hagrid threw the cloak of invisibility over them. Hagrid opened the door and an aged wizard in a lime green bowler hat and a pinstriped suit that made his portly stature more apparent, this man was flanked by a tall chocolate skinned man in pale blue robes that had a vaguely Middle Eastern feel and Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.

“Minister!” Hagrid exclaimed with wide eyes but they soon narrowed as they flicked suspiciously toward the tall man.

“Bad business Hagrid,” the elderly man spoke in a weary tone, “with all of these attacks, parents have asked me to step in before another student is killed.”

“Hagrid,” Professor Dumbledore seemed to look directly at them as he spoke, “Accompanying the Minister for Magic is Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt, and I have assured both men that I have the utmost confidence in your innocence.”

“Confidence?” Hagrid’s head moved at lightning speed over all of the men, “why is he having confidence in me?”

“Yes headmaster but I’ve come to take you Hagrid,” the man held his neon coloured hat to his chest as he spoke, “my hand has been forced.”

“Take me?” Hagrid looked afraid, his eyes were wide as dinner plates and he looked to be shaking violently, “Not Azkaban!”

“Let’s not make a big deal of this,” the Auror had his wand at hand as he spoke, “You’ll have to come with us either way, let’s not make this hard.”

“I’ll come peacefully,” Hagrid hung his head but it appeared to be a situation with no two ways about it, “I just want you two know that somebody needs to feed Fang and that if anybody should want some answers they should follow the spiders.”

“Strange last words,” Kingsley Shacklebolt raised a quizzical unibrow.

As they moved toward the front door it swung open, in the doorway stood an elegantly snooty man with long luxurious blond hair that was worn with a side parting and stone grey eyes; Kurt knew in an instance who the man was due to the striking resemblance he bore to his son, Draco Malfoy. The air that he had about him reminded Kurt distinctly of somebody else he’d known in his lengthy lifetime but he simply couldn’t place a name or face to the familiarity.

“You,” Hagrid drawled the words from between gritted teeth, “Get out of my house.”

The man let out a deep, cold, empty laugh as he waved the nose that dominated his face about in the air, “You call this hovel a house? I wouldn’t wish this squalor on my worst enemy, least of all myself for longer than necessary.” Kurt could feel Harry and Ron tense up a the man turned to Professor Dumbledore and handed him an envelope, “I simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity to deliver this message myself, the Board of Governors feels that in lieu of recent events the time has come for you to step aside; these is a suspension order.”

“You take Dumbledore away and the muggleborns will be defenceless,” Hagrid proclaimed, “there’ll be an attack a day and there’ll be killings next; there won’t be any muggleborns left by the close of the year.”

The devilishly regal man’s retort was delivered so smugly that Ron was bubbling behind him as Kurt used himself as a barrier, “And that’ll be a bad thing?”

Dumbledore lazily raised a dismissive hand, “it’s alright Hagrid,” He turned as though to speak to the four of them, “I want it to be known that I will only truly be gone from Hogwarts when those who remain are no longer loyal to me, and help will always be given at Hogwarts to this who ask for it.”

“Now those are last words worth remembering,” Kingsley shrugged for assurance but none came. Mr Malfoy flourished his walking stick as he turned and left, closely followed by the Minister for Magic, Auror, Headmaster and Keeper of Grounds.

“That…” Ron was bubbling when they were left alone in the dark hut, “those Malfoys know how to rub me the wrong way!”

“It doesn’t take much to rub you the wrong way,” Kurt rolled his eyes as he flicked his wand, “Lumos.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ron nudged him.

Kurt held the light over Harry’s head as the boy filled Fang’s bowl with dog biscuits, “this morning you got upset because I called you ‘Ronald’ instead of ‘Sweetheart’.”

“Did not,” Ron’s voice came out higher than he expected.

“I witnessed the mentioned exchange,” Hermione giggled as Harry swung the cloak of invisibility over their small group.

“I’m more interested in finding out what Hagrid meant by ‘follow the spiders’,” Harry put an end to their jovial exchange.

“I’m also curious,” Hermione fiddled with her Alice band as she spoke, “I think I’ll go to the library.”

~0~

“Mr Hummel,” Professor McGonagall smiled at him, it was the first time he’d seen her smile since he came to Hogwarts, “Please come in and close the door.”

Kurt entered her office cautiously but was pleasantly surprised by what he saw, there was exquisite artwork all on every wall; Kurt was a lover of all things beautiful and though Hogwarts had many paintings, none of them were normal artworks. Kurt approached the aging woman’s desk with caution, since coming to Hogwarts he had been called to the principal’s office many time but that had been Professor Dumbledore who treated their, often scheduled, meetings as a joke.

“Good afternoon Professor McGonagall,” Kurt tried to match her smile but knew it didn’t suit him as well, “I was surprised to receive your memo about this meeting, I had assumed it to be cancelled due to Professor Dumbledore’s suspension.”

“This appointment was in his diary on an orange post it,” Professor McGonagall explained, “When he handed me his meetings, he told me not to cancel anything with a higher importance rating than yellow.”

“I taught him how to organise his meetings that way,” Kurt preened as he praised himself, “it makes gaging the importance of things easier.”

“Professor Dumbledore holds you to very high esteem,” she tilted her head in endearment, “I’d like to get to know you just a little bit better so I can understand… all of this. I’m going to humble myself and admit that I was wrong in my belief that you are the heir and responsible for these attacks, I realised that I barely know you and that is a great injustice considering that it was I who introduced you to the wizarding world.”

“What would you like to know?” Kurt was curious of the circumstances of this meeting but he knew that he had nothing to hide.

“Tell me some of your childhood,” she reclined in her seat and pursed her lips curiously.

“Well you know I was adopted by the Hummels,” Kurt bowed his head for acknowledgement, “my mum grew up in Sheffield and came to London to work as an investment banker, after graduating from Oxford, and she met my dad who was a French born German mechanic; they fell in love, got married and swore to never have children.

“Enter me from stage left; I was found on the doorstep as a new born and I was named for the wolf but it conveniently also accounted for my new German heritage,” Kurt’s voice was clinical as he told the story, he had to detach himself or he might not be able to finish, “As a family of three we were quite happy, I was growing well and strong, and I’d taken to the arts with a running start; I was taking ballet, gymnastics and piano. I considered myself such an artistic prodigy that I had convinced myself that I was the lovechild of Elton John and Freddie Mercury, I didn’t understand science then.

“When I was five I was diagnosed with Acute lymphoblastic leukaemia; we tried chemotherapy, radiation and finally we started looking for a bone marrow donor,” Kurt had trained his voice to remain level when he got to this part of the story, “my mum, who had tested and not been a match, tested again and it turned out she was a match. They performed the surgery and it was a success but as I got better, my mother succumbed to an allergic reaction to the anaesthetic; she suffered cardiovascular collapse and the damage was irreparable, she died.”

“I’m so very sorry for your loss,” her face had softened and her eyes glistened as she tried to offer a sympathetic face.

“In the months to follow we lived on welfare,” Kurt had a certain fondness of that time in his life, a certain simplicity that he’d never had ever again, “my father had quit his job to care for me and all that they had saved was used to pay off the mortgage of the house so that we wouldn’t become homeless; whilst my father cared for me we covered the school work I’d missed out on in the two years I’d been ill. The summer before I returned to school my mother’s life insurance and the malpractice suit paid out, and we became excessively rich; we’d been living the middle class version of hand to mouth till this point and suddenly we had more money than we could ever spend.

“I started second grade with a work ethic I’d adopted when my mother died,” Kurt knew that the hardest part of the story was behind him, he took a deep breath and carried on, “I had figured that I owed my survival and new wealth to her sacrifice, she would want me to do whatever I liked so long as I did it well; I liked to read and grow my expertise, that’s what I did. When I started school I wasn’t nervous because I had convinced my father to send me to the same school as Finn, whom I met during my stay in hospital; he’d come in with appendicitis and stayed for about a week but he kept visiting me even after he was discharged.”

“What about the ballet and the piano and gymnastics,” Kurt raised his vision from a paperweight he’d been staring at longer than he cared to admit and saw professor McGonagall push aside a tear, “did you ever return to a semblance of the life you’d had before?”

“As soon as the doctor gave me the green light,” Kurt smiled, “Finn even got me into hockey even though I was dreadful.”

“Were you happy again?” she leaned forward intently, “Was sadness behind you?”

“I was never happy again,” Kurt mirrored her body language, “the heartache had made me realise that my emotional response to the events in my life reached beyond happiness and sadness; I was euphoric, satisfied, hungry for life and pleasured to the point of ecstasy. My father found love again and Finn became my brother, legally that is because he’s been my brother so much longer; my life has been perfect since then, at least it was…”

“What do you mean?”

“I came to this place and everything started to come apart,” Kurt had never admitted that much to himself but knew the words to be truth he had been denying himself, “I’m supposed to be more satisfied by life than ever before but all I have are doubts and questions; for the first time in my life, since the Elton John/Freddie Mercury bubble was burst, the identity of my birth parents became a factor in my life again and I have no way of solving it.”

“How so?”

“If I knew who my parents are, then I’d know if I was the heir of Slytherin,” Kurt let out a heavy sigh, “I hadn’t even considered it as a possibility because I wasn’t doing it, I’m usually busy when the attacks happen, but Ronald had this theory that the Chamber of Secrets might be automated to sense the heir’s presence and start it’s engine; there hasn’t been an attack since then but I’ve been dedicating a certain portion of my brain power to trying to prevent it just in case, I didn’t like any of the people who were attacked so I thought it might be tapping into my subconscious.”

“Ronald?” Professor McGonagall pursed her lips inquisitively, “You’re listening to Ron Weasley?”

“He has his moments of brilliance,” Kurt let out small laugh and a large smile spread across his face, “I can’t even say that and keep a straight face.” Kurt straightened up in his seat, “you do know that this isn’t how these meetings work, right?”

“What do you mean?” Professor McGonagall’s eye opened wide and her brows reached for her hairline, “The post it said ‘Story time with Kurt’.”

“You were supposed to tell me a story,” Kurt smiled at her.

The colour drained from her face, “this is embarrassing.”

“Don’t stress it,” Kurt waved a dismissive hand, “I love hearing the sound of my own voice.”

“The mark of a true Slytherin,” Professor McGonagall evidently caught sight of something surprising as her eyes grew wide again, Kurt turned to follow her line of vision and wasn’t surprised to see her looking at a clock.

“Yes, that’s really the time.”

“But where did the time go?” she smiled at him, “Off you go, it’s almost dinner time.”

Kurt smiled, “this was surprisingly pleasant, I’m sure if you’d gone to Oxford like Dr Rhodes it would have been even more enjoyable.”

Kurt turned with small wave and exited the beautifully decorated office, descended the spiral staircase out into the adjacent quadrangle where he was treated to a sight that he couldn’t help but smile at; there on a bench during this chilli February afternoon were Neville and Hermione, they didn’t appear to be doing much aside from reading but Kurt could see Hermione’s hand held in Neville’s.

~0~

Kurt was standing in the corridor outside of the astronomy tower and was particularly irritated, Hermione was late for class and he had the sneaking suspicion she was avoiding him; they were yet to have a moment alone since he’d seen her holding hands with Neville the previous day, he hadn’t said anything but Hermione was sufficiently intuitive to have figure out that he knew that she and Neville were kind of a thing.

Kurt pulled out the silver pocket watch he’d gotten from ‘Pa for Christmas, the man had once again gotten Finn and him matching gifts no ordinary preteen would appreciate; Kurt couldn’t have been more pleased. Hermione was ten minutes late, he hadn’t seen her during lunch after she’d walked out of Transfiguration with a blasphemous proclamation of ‘Oh my god’, she hadn’t even spared a moment to explain it as she usually did. Kurt caught sight of Professor McGonagall scurrying down the corridor with intent, he made the flash decision to rendezvous with Hermione later instead of risking a detention for cutting class and loitering in the corridor. As Kurt moved to climb the spiral staircase into the tower he heard his name being called by the elder woman.

“Mr Hummel,” she called after him and he knew there was no point pretending not to hear her, she must have seen him hesitate at her first call, “Where are Mr Weasley and Potter?”

“Upstairs,” Kurt didn’t meet her gaze because he’d been caught red handed loitering in the courtyard during class time, “I was on my way I was just delayed-”

“Wait here,” she didn’t seem interested in his tardiness as she ascended the stairs faster than anyone he knew at her age would manage. Kurt nervously twiddled his thumbs as he tried to figure out what was happening and suddenly a worst case scenario dawned on him, Professor McGonagall walked by him, “Follow me.”

“She’s been attacked,” Professor McGonagall twitched ever so slightly but didn’t offer him any confirmation, “the Heir of Slytherin went after my best friend.”

Kurt didn’t need her to confirm his suspicions, the twitch had been all he’d needed to know that that which he had never considered possible had become his terrible truth. For a moment he couldn’t breathe but his body kept going, in step with Ron, Harry and Professor McGonagall; he took a deep breath but couldn’t shake the emptiness that had overcome him.

“This is where she was found,” Kurt followed her extended index finger to the corridor that he knew led to the library, why she had been in the library without him was beyond even his knowing; was her interest in Neville creating a rift between them? Kurt couldn’t help but consider the worst possible reason. Professor McGonagall opened the door to the infirmary, “she was found with Ravenclaw Prefect Penelope Clearwater; she was holding this in her hands, does it mean anything to any of you?”

Kurt snatched the silver hand mirror from Professor McGonagall and an overwhelming sadness washed over him, he fell to his knees and could feel the tears trailing down his cheeks, “I broke her. I made her feel insecure about the way she looked and she got petrified as a result.” Kurt curled into foetal position on the stone floor, “I just wanted to treat it because it looked so damaged, I didn’t care about how she looked, not really and now I’ve lost her.”

“Actually,” Professor McGonagall didn’t sound the least bit impressed by his antics, “Professor Sprout’s Mandrake are fully matured and will be harvested by her tomorrow morning, we should have a restorative draft by tomorrow night.”

Harry, who’d been soothingly stroking Kurt’s hair, had his hand smacked away; Kurt got to his feet and wiped away his tears, “I’m okay.”

“We’ll do you a favour and never mention that to anyone,” Ron placed a supportive hand on his shoulder.

Kurt moved to Hermione’s side and clasped her hand, there was a crumpled piece of parchment in her hand, Kurt took it and slipped it in the pockets of his robes, “I’ll throw this away for you.”

“Kurt,” Harry moved closer, “Don’t panic but there’s a spider in your hair.”

Kurt took a deep breath and let out a long high shriek, Ron matched his shriek in both pitch and intensity, “it’s going to eat me!”

At that moment Ron noticed the trail of spiders leading across the infirmary and out into the corridor, as his scream became louder and more frantic. Harry pulled the spider from a now vibrating Kurt’s hair, “What was it Hagrid said about spiders?”

“Kill them,” Ron was now to out of breath to scream, “Kill them all!”

“I’m pretty sure we were supposed to feed them,” Kurt nodded.

Harry blinked rapidly, “It was Fang we were supposed to feed, glad I took that upon myself or we’d have to explain to Hagrid what killed his dog. We were supposed to follow the spiders.”

“No,” Ron stomped his feet in protest, “you're not making me do this.”

“Of course we are,” Harry gave Ron a small smile, Kurt went straight for the door, “wait, we have to get my father’s cloak.”

“There is not a chance in hell that I am waiting a second longer than I have to,” Kurt gestured for the boys to follow as he swung the hospital doors open, “it’s gotten Hermione and that means Finn could be next, I pity the person who tries to stop me from getting to the bottom of this.”

Kurt walked past the window the spiders were using to exit the castle; he was on a b-line down the stairs and out the castle. Kurt circled around the west wing of the castle with Ron and Harry hot on his heels so he could get a view of the window he’d walked past.

“What are you doing?” Ron asked.

“I’m trying to find the trail,” Kurt turned his head and realised that in an attempt to see what he was seeing, Ron had stepped deep into his personal space, “that’s the window I saw the spiders leaving the castle through.”

Kurt pointed down from the second floor window, he then started looking on the ground but he couldn’t see in the darkness of dusk; his struggle was alleviated when Harry held his lit wand out for him to see, Kurt found the trail and gestured for the two boys to follow with a whisper, “Thanks, lumos.”

“Kurt,” Ron whispered so just he could hear, “You’re afraid of everything, are you afraid right now?”

“Too much anger and adrenaline to feel anything,” Kurt spoke as they scaled the slope.

“I’m afraid,” Ron whimpered, “When I was younger Fred and George transfigured my teddy into a giant spider and locked me in my room with it.”

Kurt stopped suddenly and turned to Ron who collided with him, “Honey, save for Oprah.”

“Who?”

“That’s the spirit,” Kurt turned back to see they had fallen behind, Harry was approaching the tree line of the Forbidden Forrest; he picked up his pace to cover the distance.

“The trail leads into the Forbidden Forest,” Harry reported as they stood at the edge of the dark density of tall trees, “Should we keep following them?”

Kurt shrugged, “Worst case scenario, we die.”

He walked beyond the tree line with his wand held out so that he could see the spiders he was meant following, within moments Harry and Ron were at his flanks and they were heading deeper into the great unknown- shoulder to shoulder. Kurt nearly dropped his wand when he was startled by a low rumbling sound; as soon as they had all regained their composure, they began to search the peripheral area for the beast that would be their undoing.

“Guys,” Kurt turned to follow Ron’s line of vision, “It’s our car.”

“Why would your car be in the Forbidden Forest?” Kurt flicked his wand, “lumos maxima.”

A small ball of light flew from the tip of his wand toward the source of the rumbling, there between the trees was a dirty old blue car; the car revved its engine and turned on its headlights in retaliation to Kurt illuminating the darkness it had come to call its home.

“Seems almost sentient,” Harry observed as their tense standoff with the car went on.

“Seems wild to me,” Ron countered.

A semblance of silence washed over the tense situation as neither stood down, “Do you think it’ll attack us if we try to walk away?”

“I’ll go, you two wait and gauge it’s reaction, don’t follow until we’re sure it’s safe,” Harry started walking in the same direction as the trail of spiders, “Come on, seems harmless.”

They began to follow the unending trail of spiders once more, deeper into the forest and closer to its heart. The pathway they had initially been walking along had ended and they were now navigating through a thicket of exposed roots, occasionally losing the spiders as the trail became sparse and the arachnids weaved their way in between the cluster of intertwined roots. The spiders led them so deep into the forest that Kurt couldn’t make heads or tails of where they were, the trees had grown so thick in this part of the forest that one could not see the night sky, the only source of light were the wands belonging to Kurt and Harry’s; Kurt knew they had reached their destination when they came to a large white dome.

“Is that the Chamber of Secrets?” Ron asked with a small squeak.

“I guess I know why it was never found during the many searches of the castle,” Kurt tossed a ball of light toward the dome, it was clearly where the spiders were leading them.

“Here goes nothing,” Harry approached and the enormity of the dome dwarfed him to no bigger than the spiders they were following in comparison, “Are you two coming?”

“The adrenaline and anger wore off,” Kurt smiled nervously, “I don’t choose to go there.”

The dark haired boy turned to Ron with pleading bottle green eyes, “Ron?”

“I’m with Kurt on this one,” Ron shook his head and rung his arms, “I don’t want to.”

Harry went around the pair and started pushing them, “Well, we have to.”

“Hello,” Ron called into the silent dome.

A voice that distinct sounding educated voice called out to them, “Hagrid is that you?”

“No,” Harry replied to the seemingly disembodied, “not Hagrid.”

“Then who dares disturb my rest and intrude on my space?” the voice called out with new rage as they approached.

For the first time the light of their wands reached the source of the seemingly disembodied voice and Kurt took a step back as the extraordinarily large spider was looking at them with his many eyes, Harry spoke once more, “We’re friends of Hagrid’s.”

“Friends of Hagrid?” the voice asked, “And do you per chance have names?”

“What is that thing?” Ron whimpered.

“An acromantuala, fascinating creatures to study in theory very dangerous to encounter,” Kurt hissed back at him before turning to the acromantula and pointing to each of them as he spoke, “We’re known as Kurt, Ron and Harry, might I ask who you are?”

“I am Aragog,” the furry monster proclaimed, “I too am a friend of Hagrid.”

“You’re the monster,” Harry pointed at Aragog, “I recognise that voice, you killed that girl.”

“I most certainly did not,” Aragog counter, “I have never harmed a human life; Hagrid forbade it and so out of respect I dared not.”

“Wait a minute,” Harry raised a silencing hand as Kurt moved, “You’re not Slytherin’s monster?”

“No, the monster was born in the castle,” Kurt couldn’t help being impressed by the spider’s grasp of the English language, “I came to Hagrid in the pocket of a traveller.”

“Other than that,” Kurt interjected before Harry could ask another silly question, “he’s an acromantula, you are a he?” the spider grunted an affirmation, “they aren’t known to have the ability to petrify their victims, their venom might have paralysing properties but it has a single effect and that is to kill it’s victim, no two ways about it as there is no known anti-venom that doesn’t contain the very rare venom.”

Ron let out choking and heavy breath but no words formed, Harry took the queue, “How do you know all that?”

“I read,” Kurt pointed out the obvious, “I’m fascinated by nature in theory, but I hate the outdoors.”

“Wait,” Harry turned back to Aragog, “If you’re not the monster than what is?”

“We do not speak its name!” the disgust in Aragog’s tone was evident.

“Might you possibly make an exception?” Kurt tried his luck.

Aragog looked affronted by the request, “Hagrid too asked me for years after the girl was killed, he begged me to name the monster but I could not. I can tell you as much as I told Hagrid; it is that which we spiders fear above all.”

“That sounds like a bit of a dick move,” Ron spoke with a moment of clarity, his fears temporarily forgotten, “Hagrid was expelled to protect you and you can’t even bend the rules to tell him what the monster he took the fall for was?”

“It’s complicated,” Aragog would have turned up his nose had he had one, “I wouldn’t expect somebody as simple as yourself to understand.”

“That’s rude, you don’t know my story, I might be smart,” Ron countered, “Also, I doubt even I’m dumber than a talking spider.”

To which Aragog simply grunted.

“If you won’t name the monster,” Kurt pursed his lips inquisitively, “how can we know you aren’t lying to us? The attacks stopped after you were banished from the Castle, isn’t that a little convenient?”

“The dead girl was found in a bathroom,” the spider spoke dismissively, “I never saw anything of the castle outside of the box in which Hagrid kept me in an unused dungeon.”

Ron and Harry seemed to be pulling him toward the exit, “I think we’ll be going now.”

“No Harry,” Kurt tried to shrug the boy’s grip, “I’m pumped, and I want him to tell us what the monster is. I don’t know about you but I am tired of everything being so cryptic at this school, do you not just for once want someone to tell you everything all at once?”

“But Kurt,” Harry directed his gaze to the many large spiders that had them surrounded.

“I left my iron on,” Kurt smiled politely as he started backing away, “I’m going to have to take a rain check on the remainder of this meeting.”

“My children do not harm Hagrid on my command,” there was an edge to Aragog’s tone, “But I cannot deny them fresh meat when it wonders into our midst so willingly.”

“You call them off or I swear I will set this dome on fire,” Kurt warned as they stood back to back.

“You cannot scare me with empty threats,” Aragog gave a small but menacing laugh, “enjoy, my children.”

Kurt gestured for Ron and Harry to stay behind him, “incendio.” Flames shot from Kurt’s extended right hand and his wand, as he slowly bent his fingers and adjusted the angle of his wand the flames began to spiral around them, “I’m not sure how long I can keep them at bay, do you think we can run?”

“There are too many of them,” Harry replied in a shaky voice.

“What are we going to do?” Ron whimpered in a panic, “I knew coming here was a bad idea!”

“Maybe if you had a working wand we might be able to strategize but I can’t think of any way of getting away that doesn’t have a weak spot,” Kurt mumbled as he was crunching numbers in his mind.

The low rumbling they had heard once before that night roared closer and closer at such a rapid pace that before they could put one and one together, the dirty old blue car was upon them. The car drove through the dome wall and b-line straight for them, swerving to a stop beside them and throwing its doors open; leaving a trail of crushed and disoriented spiders in its wake.

“I think it wants us to get in,” Harry voice went high with elation.

“Best option we have,” Kurt said as he slid into the front seat first, “Worst case scenario, it tries to kill us as well.”

They piled into the flying car and it took off at great speed, but the acromantulae were relentless in their pursuit; Kurt and Harry fired curse after hex after jinx but their infinite horde just kept strong in its pursuit. The car used speed and agility that proved both Ron and Harry correct in their initial suspicions, there was a definite element of sentience but with an edge of animal instincts; Kurt would be most ingratiated to meet the person who’d enchanted such a master piece.

The castle came into view and the car began to fly toward the main entrance but suddenly, from the great height that they had managed in their short flight, the enchanted car seemed to spot something that made it uneasy as it suddenly dropped straight down half way up the slope between the forbidden forest and the castle. As soon as it hit the ground, it opened its doors and flung them out before hightailing it back into the Forbidden Forest.

“There my dad’s Ford Anglia goes again,” Ron whimpered as they ran to the main entrance into the castle, soon as they were in the castle the flame haired boy asked the question that was burning fresh on their minds, “What’s Hagrid playing at?”

“I’ve been asking myself what the point of that excursion was since we got away with our lives,” Kurt added as he dusted the forest from himself, “I want a long hot shower.”

“Don’t you guys see?” Harry asked them with wide eyes but Kurt was busy dusting himself mercilessly.

“I don’t see anything,” Kurt spoke with a shortness of breath, “I think I dropped my spectacles.”

“You weren’t wearing your spectacles,” Ron helped him out.

“We know one thing now,” Harry didn’t pay Kurt’s loss of vision much mind, “Hagrid was innocent.”

“If that was the point of that excursion then we now know who Aragog learned to be a dick from,” Ron countered as the room started spinning and he fell to his knees, “Kurt are you alright?”

“I think I’m having another panic attack,” he spoke softly between gritted teeth as tightness came over his chest.

“What I want to know is why Tom Riddle would tell me it was Hagrid, if Hagrid was innocent?” Harry was too busy pacing to notice Kurt’s panic attack.

“Tom Riddle?” Darkness consumed Kurt with those final words.


	9. Chapter 9

Kurt woke up at about midday feeling something he knew he never wanted to feel again, he couldn’t remember what he’d forgotten; a feeling he’d spared Neville from but that now plagued by himself. He was in the third floor of the school hospital and he knew in an instance, though the details were still fuzzy to him, that he’d had another panic attack; that makes two more than he’d had before the Chamber of Secrets opened. Before Kurt could start assimilating his thoughts he decided a shower would be best, he needed to wash the previous day and night’s activity off himself as he smelled like nature in a natural way as opposed to his usual artificial berry scent.

Kurt pulled his wand from his robes and pointed it skyward; he concentrated on his vanity case, tucked safely into his trunk in the Slytherin dungeon, “Venir.” The white case that was filled with his day to day cosmetics appeared in his hands and he laid it aside, once more he began to concentrate and one by one he summoned his shower shoes, bathrobe, fresh school uniform and robes.

Kurt entered the small bathroom adjacent to the infirmary and ran the shower extra hot. As he stepped under the stream of water he started to sort through the previous day beginning with dinner, Hermione had been absent from dinner otherwise everything had been normal. He’d gone down to his room to feed Bomballerina, he needed to go feed her now before she brought something else dead back to his room.

Astronomy is where he found out Hermione had been petrified; minor breakdown but according to Professor McGonagall Hermione would be just fine by the end of the day. Kurt couldn’t quite figure out what he was looking for but there didn’t appear to be anything worth remembering right now, he began to shampoo his hair.

“ _I’m gonna wash that man right out of my hair,_ ” Kurt half sang, half hummed the song as he lathered his hair generously with volumising shampoo. He suddenly was reminded of his meeting with Aragog last night, he was the one who had said something that Kurt felt he needed to remember; ‘it is that which we spiders fear above all.’ It sounded like something Kurt had read in one of his more risqué dark arts books but he couldn’t quite place it, he would have to check his books for the reference.

Suddenly as he rinsed his hair and washed the last of the previous day from his body he remember; ‘why would Tom Riddle lie to me?’

“It’s Voldemort,” Kurt remembered the familiar face from the picture on Dumbledore’s desk, “Lord Voldemort is the Heir of Slytherin, he’s attacking muggle born students.”

When he said it out loud it made perfect sense, the first wizarding war had been sparked by his hatred of muggles and muggleborns; why hadn’t he thought of this earlier? Then doubt crept into his mind, Voldemort is dead. He was supposed to be dead last year as well but that didn’t stop him from appearing at the back of Professor Quirrel’s head, was he on the back of somebody’s head right now? Or had he learnt how to completely possess people?

Kurt ran the multitude of questions through his mind as he dressed, electing to do an abridged version of his moisturising routine, he began to transfer the contents of yesterday’s robes into today’s robes; pocket watch, wand and crumpled piece of parchment? He uncrumpled the parchment with great haste, the title read ‘Basilisks’.

Kurt recognised that the parchment had been ripped from a book and remembered in an instance that it was the litter he’d taken from Hermione the previous night, he read through the page with great speed. It was about the magical creatures, he had read about them in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ but he couldn’t figure out why Hermione would have this; there hadn’t been a known Basilisk for hundreds of years and when they attacked they killed, both by making direct eye contact and with their potent venom. Hermione had written some notes in the margin, ‘pipes’ and ‘indirect eye contact?’

I’m a parselmouth, it would explain the whispers of ‘kill’, I’ve been hearing it move around in the plumbing! Hermione was truly the brightest witch of her age, she had managed to figure out a riddle that had perplexed the greatest sorcerer for fifty years in a couple of months. Kurt read the extract once more, it’s killed by the crowing of a rooster, he had to find a teacher and relay this information.

Kurt took off at a run toward the staff room with his gaze fixed on the floor, he doubted his contact lenses counted as indirect eye contact; he navigated the hallway, walking by a ‘T’ intersection of two corridors, with great speed but suddenly he felt himself falling, not again. Kurt remained conscious, it wasn’t a panic attack. With his gaze fixed on the floor he looked to see what he’d fallen over, there was a fallen statue of Finn; petrified.

With a deep breath Kurt looked about to see what had distorted his brother’s view of the monster, the only thing he could see was a window opposite the corridor. The basilisk must have been behind him if it was indirect, then he saw it’s reflection in the window.

“I’m so sorry to leave you like this,” Kurt laid a soft kiss on the boy’s forehead and took of down the perpendicular hallway.

Kurt recognised it as the hallway in which the first attack had happened, this was where the writing on the walls had first appeared. He kept his eyes to the ground till he came to where the writing was and was surprised to find new words, ‘HER SKE’. There Ginny Weasley was writing on the walls, was she the heir? But Tom Riddle had made so much more sense, or was it just convenient for him because it allowed him to believe that none of his peers were capable of such evil?

“Ginny?” Kurt spoke in a shrill voice, “Ginny Weasley, what are you doing?”

“Looks like me,” her voice didn’t sound right for an eleven year old girl, “you must be Kurt Hummel.”

“It’s Kurt Elizabeth Hummel to psychopaths like yourself,” Kurt’s deduction had been correct, it was Tom Riddle but how had he come to possess her?

“I forbid you to look at him,” Ginny whispered behind Kurt, parseltongue. Kurt slowly turned with his gaze fixed on the floor, he saw the base of the monstrous serpent’s body where it had its head held high in the doorway of Moaning Mertyl’s bathroom; Kurt took the risk and slowly raised his head, as his gaze reached the level just below its head the beast looked away and he took in its full hideousness. Kurt’s attention was drawn by its large red plume, he pulled out his wand and observed it’s base; the core of his wand was the same blood red.

Suddenly there was red hot pain and darkness.

~0~

**_Harry:_ **

Harry and Ron had decided to go see Kurt after lunch, they’d visit Hermione after that. Getting away was a feat in the current climate as the new rules had been made much more stringent since Dumbledore’s departure, fear had taken hold of the school and it set Harry on edge; Kurt was the only person who seemed to genuinely enjoy it without any malice, he kept saying that we need fear like babies need mother’s milk because without it our bones won’t set right. Draco Malfoy had been terrorising everyone, making snide comments about Hermione and who he wanted to see petrified next.

As they were trying inconspicuously make their way to the hospital wing, McGonagall came down the corridor from the direction they were heading, “Potter, Weasley, Have you seen Mr Hummel?”

“He had another panic attack last night,” Ron answered saving him the effort, “he’s in the hospital wing.”

“Not anymore,” McGonagall shook her head, “I was just in there and He’s not there, his brother has been attacked.”

Professor Snape’s voice filled the hallway, “All students are to return to their dormitories, all members of staff are to come to the Third floor corridor, you know the one.”

“Come with me,” McGonagall gestured for them to follow, they climbed the stairs and reached the third floor corridor with the writing on the wall.

“Minerva,” Snape looked mildly distressed, “The monster has taken two students into the chamber and left us another message.” Professor Snape spotted the pair of them and the emotion melted from his face, “I thought I had specifically said all students are to go to their dormitories, care to explain why you’re here?”

“I hadn’t realised the seriousness of this situation,” McGonagall answered for them, “they were helping me look for Mr Hummel, his brother has been petrified.”

“Kurt Hummel is one of the students that the monster has taken into the chamber,” Snape’s distress was more evident in his tone as he tried to whisper.

“And who is the other student?” McGonagall’s eyes were opened wider than Harry had ever seen them before.

“Ginny Weasley.”

“It’s got my Kurt!” Ron whimpered.

“Your Kurt?” Harry asked his friend, “Dude, your sister.”

The staff arrived in drips and drags and finally after several minutes they had all arrived, Professor McGonagall relayed the information Snape had just shared with them, “Tell the students to pack their things, the Hogwarts Express leaves tomorrow morning. Filius, I want you to go get Mr and Mrs Weasley; Severus, you get the Hummels. I’ll contact the Ministry, the Board of Governors and the parents; we’ve held off as long as we possibly could but the time has come for Hogwarts to close.”

“What did I miss?” Professor Lockhart strode cheerily down the corridor from which they had come.

“Gilderoy,” McGonagall’s face lit up, “This is your moment, the monster has taken students into the chamber.”

He looked them over with a keen eye, “What do you want me to do about it?”

“You’ve been telling anyone who will listen how you’ve known where the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets is all along,” Professor Snape added, “And how you know just the counter curse, this is your moment; go write a new book.”

“Quite right Severus,” the man pulled at his collar nervously, “I’ll go get ready and be on my way.”

McGonagall turned to Ron and him, “You two best head back to Gryffindor Tower, on your way.” She turned back to Snape, “Severus, is the restorative draft ready?”

“I spilled it,” he pointed at the large stain beside the piece of discarded parchment, “I do have more in my office, I’ll deliver it to the hospital wings after I visit the Hummels.”

As the hallway cleared Ron bent over to pick up the piece of discarded parchment, Harry raised a quizzical brow, “What on earth are you doing?”

For the first time he got view of new the writing on the walls, ‘HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER’; for a moment Harry wondered why he hadn’t mentioned Kurt in the message, what would become of him?

“Maybe Kurt or Ginny dropped it,” Ron looked over the piece of parchment and his eyes doubled in size, “it’s a basilisk!”

“What’s a basilisk?” Ron handed him the parchment and he read it with great haste, “This is in the Chamber of Secrets?”

Ron nodded, “That would explain why you could hear it and now we know how it was still alive all this time, something Kurt frequently reminded us made a monster improbable; that says they can live for hundreds of years.”

“It fits,” Harry’s eyes, “look, ‘Spiders flee before it’ and this looks like Hermione’s handwriting.”

“It’s not Kurt’s,” Ron shook his head, “he uses elaborate looping and he doesn’t write in cursive because it would smudge because he’s left handed.”

“You definitely know ‘your’ Kurt,” Harry chuckled.

“Oh come off it Harry,” Ron giggled nervously, “What does it say?”

“Pipes, that must be how it’s getting around,” Harry turned the sheet so he could see the remainder of the text in the margin, “Indirect eye-contact, that’s why nobody’s dead. Collin saw it through his camera, Justin saw it through Nearly-Headless Nick, Nick and Peeves are already dead so they couldn’t die again.”

“Mrs Norris must have seen it in the water,” Ron exclaimed, “Mertyl flooded the bathroom after I insulted her.”

“Kurt probably found this and figure out where the Chamber of Secrets was,” Harry was nodding with every word at this point, “he was probably on his way to get help.”

“But where is it?” Ron furrowed his brow.

“Somewhere in this corridor,” Harry looked about the T-junction so quickly that he felt himself getting dizzy, “This is the vicinity in which most of the victims were found; Collin was found on the corridor outside the trophy room, Hermione was on the passage to the library stairs, Finn was at the end of this corridor, Peeves and Mrs Norris were here, and Justin Finn-Fletchley was found on the floor directly below us.”

“If it’s using the pipes then the opening must be in a bathroom,” Harry raised confused brow, “Aragog said the girl was found in a bathroom, maybe she never left.” Ron shrugged, “Also that’s the only place I know with an opening to a pipe.”

“The girl was Mertyl!” Harry was shocked by how they had spent so much time in that bathroom without knowing they were in danger, “You’re brilliant.”

Ron shrugged, “You spend enough time with Kurt and Hermione, and they are bound to rub off on you; the art of deduction.”

“Don’t tell them I said this,” Harry looked about nervously as if they would appear and rip him a new one for what he was about to say, “You’re much better at it than either of them, they would have had to go to the library first.”

“Lockhart’s going into the Chamber,” Ron pointed out, “We should go with him.”

“That sounds more like the Ron I know,” He playfully punched his friend as they took off down the hallway at speed.

They navigated their way through the castle till they came to Professor Lockhart’s office, forgetting his manners Harry entered without knocking. He and Ron were treated to quite the sight, Lockhart was running around like a headless chicken throwing things into suitcases, bags and trunks; the odd part was that he appeared to be tossing the packed bags into his fireplace. When Harry stepped into the fire he realised that the flames were green like hey had been at The Burrow over the summer, Lockhart was using the floo network.

“What are you doing?” Ron demanded before Harry could form his own words.

“Terribly urgent call,” Lockhart didn’t stop packing as he spoke, “Unavoidable.”

“What about Kurt and Ginny?” Harry countered.

“So sorry but there’s nothing I can do,” Lockhart didn’t stop packing as he spoke, “None regrets more than I.”

“But you're the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Ron exclaimed, “You can’t leave.”

“Yes boy,” Lockhart stopped packing and stepped closer to them, “I’m a teacher, when I applied for the position there was nothing about a Chamber of Secrets.”

“But what about all the things you did in your books?” Harry was taken aback by the man’s reaction to the situation, “you must have some idea how to deal with this.”

“Do you think my books would have sold half as well if people hadn’t thought I’d done all that stuff,” Lockhart turned his back to them rather dramatically as though about to begin monologing, “I just wanted to be a world famous author but nobody bought my first book; so when by chance I came across a wizard who’d just defeated a pack of werewolves I did what I had to in order to sell books, I wiped his memory and claimed his victory. I’m going to have to do the same to you now.”

“You’re a fraud,” Harry and Ron had their wands at the ready for when the man tried to wipe their memories, “Expilliarmus.”

“What should we do with him now?” Ron turned to him expectantly.

“Let him go,” Lockhart mumbled out the corner of his mouth.

“We know you said that,” Harry kept his wand at the man’s neck, “I think we’ll take him with us.”

They led the man along with their wands to Mertyl’s bathroom, the whole way he kept begging for them to let him go but they didn’t pay him any mind. When they reached her bathroom, Mertyl was floating over the stalls and sighing over and over again, as they stepped closer she turned around, “who’s there? Oh, Harry, it’s you. What do you want? I haven’t seen you since you took that book.”

“I wanted to ask you how you died,” Harry tripped over his words, he wasn’t sure if that was an appropriate question or how Mertyl would react.

“Oh, it was awful and it happened in this very cubical,” she let out a heavy defeated sigh as she pointed to the stall below her, “I was hiding in the bathroom and crying because Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses. Then I heard someone come in and start talking in a funny made up language; I realised it was a boy, so I unlocked the door and came out so that I could tell them to go away but I died. It took them hours to find my body, turns out nobody missed me when I was alive and nobody missed me when I was dead; finally Olive Hornby came in on command of Professor Dippet, she found me and she never forgot it till the day she died- I made sure of that.”

“You just died?” Ron asked, “How?”

“All I remember is seeing a pair of large yellow eye by that sink over there,” Harry followed the line of her finger to the sink that faced toward the wall, farthest from the door. Harry tried to open the tap but nothing happened, “it’s never worked, for as long as I’ve been in this bathroom in life and in death.”

Harry felt the faucet, there was a serpent engraved on either side of it, “this is it, this is the opening of the chamber of secrets.”

“Say something in Parseltongue,” Ron suggested.

Harry concentrated very hard, he’d never spoken Parseltongue intentionally, “ _Chamber of Secrets, Open._ ” The circular marble slab that sat over the ring of sinks began to rise and slowly the ring opened up, the sink in front of Harry sank into the ground revealing the opening of a pipe. He turned to Ron, “you were right about it being the opening of a pipe.”

Ron lead Lockhart to the opening of the pipe, it appeared to be dark and unending, “You go first.”

“Boys, you don’t mean to do this,” Lockhart pleaded.

“After you,” Harry pushed and they listened to him scream, he hit the floor sooner than they’d expected but it seemed a long drop none the less. Harry grabbed Ron’s hand and with a small nod they jumped; they fell for a good ten or so feet before the pipe started gradually levelling out till it was more of a slide than a dead drop, leading them farther from the castle. When they reached the end of the pipe they were thrown into a shallow pit that was filled with the bones of countless small rodents that crunched and cracked beneath their weight.

“It’s quite filthy down here,” Lockhart moaned.

“Honey,” Ron countered in forced high voice, “Save it for Oprah.”

“Any sign of movement and you shut your eyes right away,” Harry warned them before they followed the adjoined corridor deeper into the bowels of Hogwarts, the corridor opened into a rugged and bare antechamber with stromatolites.

“What’s this?”  Ron asked as they eye the length translucent yellow monstrosity filling the antechamber.

“It looks like a snake,” Lockhart suggested.

“It’s a snake skin,” Harry corrected.

“The thing that shed this skin must be at least sixty feet long,” Ron face palmed, “hence the king of serpents.” Lockhart fell to the floor and curled up in foetal position, “Heart of a lion, this one.”

Suddenly he got to his feet and snatched the wand away Ron’s wand, pointing it at the pair, “I guess we’ve come to the end of the road but don’t fret, I will chronicle our adventure in my next book; a tragedy about how I was too late to save the girl and the pair of you lost your minds at the sight of her mangled body. It will be quite the tear jerker, people will eat it up. Say good bye to your memories, obliviate.”

As the words left Lockhart’s lips Ron’s broken wand exploded sending Ron flying into the corridor from whence they’d come and Lockhart flying into the ceiling with great force, as a result a great many of the stromatolites were knocked loose and began to rain down on the small cavern. Harry took evasive action, by the time the dust had settled the cavern had been split in two by a floor to ceiling pile of rocks, “Ron, are you okay?”

“Just dandy,” Ron screamed back, “but my wand is literally just splinters, Lockhart’s memory charm rebounded and he can’t remember who he is.”

“Wait here,” Harry shouted back the instruction, “try to clear as much of this rubble as possible, I’m going on to het Ginny and Kurt.”

“Harry,” Ron’s voice was shakier, “bring them back.”

Harry nodded even though he knew Ron couldn’t see, he took a deep breath and carried on the only way he could now. Harry came to a large heavy looking set of silver doors with twin serpents engraved on them; with a repeat of his initial Parseltongue command the doors opened themselves to him. He climbed down the short ladder into the main chamber, the Chamber of Secrets; the chamber was long, narrow and had structural ceiling, unlike the antechamber; it was lit in the same pale green as the Slytherin common room and was lined with snake heads the size of cars on both sides; the chamber was flooded aside from a cement peninsula that started where Harry was standing and spanned the length of the chamber stopping a few feet from the great statue of a wicked looking man; there were pipes coming from every wall and even a large one from the ceiling.

As Harry walked the chamber’s length he noticed two bodies lying side by side and broke into a run; when he reached them he noticed that both were unconscious, Kurt felt fine but Ginny was cold to the touch.

“Wake up,” Harry laid down his wand to shake Ginny but she didn’t respond, “please be alive.”

“She won’t wake,” a voice came from the shadows off in the wing where the cement slab stretched out to each corner.

Harry struggled to see who was speaking due to poor lighting but as they moved closer he recognised the handsome boy in the instance, “Tom, Tom Riddle? What do you mean she won’t wake? She’s not-”

“She’s still alive,” the boy assured him with an air that reminded Harry distinctly of Kurt, “but just barely.”

As the older boy stepped closer Harry could see that he was faintly outlined, “Are you a ghost?”

“A memory,” the boy counter, “Preserved in a diary for fifty years.”

Harry returned to trying to wake Ginny before she succumbed to hypothermia from the cold dampness of the Chamber, he wondered why Kurt was still warm but suddenly remembered that layers were Kurt’s friend. His attention was drawn from his friend and his best friend’s sister by a peculiar behaviour of Tom Riddle, he picked up Harry’s wand and held it in his hand with Kurt’s wand.

“Tom, what are you doing with my wand?” Harry got to his feet, “And why do you have Kurt’s wand? Give me my wand and help me move them before the basilisk comes.”

“The basilisk won’t come until it is called,” Tom stepped around the two preteens, “and as for your wand, you won’t be needing it.”

“Give me my wand,” Harry pleaded, “we need to get them out of here, we need to save them.”

“You see, I can’t do that,” Tom smiled wickedly and all resemblance to Kurt melted away, “the thing is, as poor Ginny grows weaker, I grow stronger. It was Ginny Weasley who opened the Chamber of Secrets and let loose the Serpent of Slytherin, ordering it to attack the mudbloods.”

“No, she wouldn’t,” Harry reasoned it in his mind and it didn’t add up, “she couldn’t.”

“It was her writing the threatening messages and strangling the roosters,” Harry remembered seeing Hagrid with a bunch of dead roosters last year.

“Why?”

“Because I told her to, you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” the boy let out a manic laugh, “it’s especially easy when I’m possessing you. My old school diary came to be in Ginny’s possessions last summer and when she wrote in it, she was most enthusiastic to see it writing back; she would write in it endlessly, complaining about school, hand me downs, her peers, her family but most especially two things, Harry Potter and Kurt Hummel. As Ginny Weasley poured her soul out to me, I drank it up and poured a little of my soul into her; the power of the diary began to scare her, so she tried to get rid of it and who should find it but one of the people I was most anxious to meet.”

“Why did you want to meet me?”

“I wanted to have a little chat,” Tom’s sneer made Harry’s stomach turn, “So I tried to gain your trust by showing you my capture of that brainless oaf Hagrid.”

“Hagrid’s my friend,” Harry protested, then something dawned on him, “and you framed him.”

“It wasn’t hard to do,” Tom shrugged, “it was the word of a prefect against an acromantula raising third year, Dumbledore was the only person who believed in his innocence.”

“I bet he saw right through you,” Harry couldn’t help but smile at the man’s brilliance.

“He kept an annoyingly close eye on me from then on,” Tom snapped, “I knew it wasn’t safe to open the chamber again during my time at Hogwarts, so I left this diary with my sixteen year old self preserved in the pages so that I would be able to control another and get them to do my bidding, carrying out the noble work of Salazar Slytherin.”

“Well, you didn’t do a particularly good job of it,” Harry quipped, “The mandrake draft is being administered to the victims as we speak.”

“You silly little boy,” Tom let out a cold shrill laugh, “Killing mudbloods hasn’t mattered to me for months, my new target has been you and this one.” Harry didn’t need to follow his finger to know who he was pointing at, “How is it that a baby with no extraordinary magical power was able defeat the most powerful wizard of all time? How is it that you were left with nothing but a measly scar but Lord Voldemort’s powers were destroyed?”

“Why do you care?” Harry was sure he was supposed to be drawing a conclusion at this point but it wouldn’t click, “Lord Voldemort was after your time.”

“Lord Voldemort is my past, present and future,” Tom began to wave Kurt’s wand in the air but nothing happened, “This stupid thing is defective.” He tossed the wand aside and started again with Harry’s wand, the letters floating in the air appeared to be his name ‘TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE’ but then he waved his wand the letters rearrange themselves to form ‘I AM LORD VOLDEMORT’.

“Wait,” Harry tried to build the bridges in his mind but couldn’t, “You’re Voldemort and the Heir of Slytherin, or are you just Voldemort because you look nothing like him. Also, I always thought Voldemort was his surname and his title was actually lord; why has no one ever mentioned that it was an anagram?”

Tom turned to Harry with anger in his eyes, “You are really dense, I’m both. Surely you didn’t think I’d keep my filthy muggle father’s name; I fashioned myself a new name, one wizards all over the world would someday fear to speak when I became the greatest sorcerer in the world.”

“Albus Dumbledore is the greatest sorcerer in the world,” Harry proclaimed proudly.

“Dumbledore has been driven from this castle by the mere memory of me,” Tom exclaimed with a clap of his hands and a manic laugh.

“He’ll never be gone, so long as those who remain are still loyal to him,” Harry countered and then went in to wound, “You aren’t even second, because Kurt was invited to study under the Order of the White Lotus when he was only eleven; which was apparently a big deal, so at best you’re average. Speaking of Kurt, Why him?”

“Ginny told me he was my wayward son,” Tom chuckled as he looked down at Kurt, “I think she might have used the word spawn.”

As the last word left his smarmy lips Kurt sat up right like he’d risen from the dead and spoke in a tone that sent chills up Harry’s spine, “I’m not your son.”

~0~

Kurt woke up to extreme clarity and knew the words he’d spoken to be true, he got to his feet, took in his surrounding and extended his left arm with fire in his soul, “Accio wand.”

“He wakes,” Tom scoffed before he could say any more the most beautiful song Kurt had ever heard filled the chamber and echoed of all the walls, out of the pipe in the ceiling came Fawkes in all her glory and beauty; swooped low and dropped the sorting hat into Harry’s waiting arms, “This is what Dumbledore sends his champion? A song bird and an old hat.”

Kurt gave a small laugh, “He also sent me!”

Tom Riddle turned to the large statue and began to speak in Parseltongue, “ _Oh great Serpent of Slytherin, come forth and carry out your master’s bidding,_ ” the jaw of the statue dropped and revealed darkness, “Now let’s match the power of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazar Slytherin with yours. _Kill Harry Potter._ ”

“Harry run!” Kurt exclaimed, he remember the large serpent from earlier and knew it was trouble for Harry.

“Parseltongue won’t save you now Potter,” Tom cackled, “it only obeys the heir.”

The large serpent emerged and went straight for Harry, ignoring Kurt as if he didn’t exist; something Kurt didn’t take too lightly, “Stupify.”

The stunning spell had minimal effect on the serpent, it twitched as if to turn on him but stopped itself. While it was distracted by Kurt, Fawkes had the opportunity to swoop down and begin a vicious assault on the beast that strongly juxtaposed her beauty, she managed to sever one eye and blind the other, Harry had gotten to his feet and was now backing away with new found freedom of vision.

“Your bird might have blinded the basilisk but it can still hear you!” Tom reminded them, and as though on queue the serpent lunged at Harry but missed by an inch or so as Harry took off across the chamber and into the pipes.

“Hey,” Kurt turned his attention on Voldemort when Harry disappeared from sight, “ugly.”

“You call me ugly,” he looked affronted by Kurt’s words, “I am devilishly handsome.”

“Not when I’m done with you, Incendio,” Kurt flicked his wand and a ball of fire appeared, he broke off a piece and threw it at Voldemort, and then another and another.

“You dare speak to your father that way?” Voldemort was bubbling with anger as he lazily flicked the flames away.

“I’m not sure who misinformed you,” Kurt threw at a more rapid pace, “but my father is Albert Bartholomew James Hummel. Aculeus.”

“You would pick a filthy muggle over the Dark Lord?” Madness danced in his eyes, “Crucio.” An intense pain washed over Kurt and he fell to his knees as his muscles spasmed into submission under the agonising pain, “Where is Burt Hummel now? He’s abandoned you because nobody would want a discarded blood-traitorous rodent like yourself, no better than a mudblood.”

Kurt knew that Voldemort was using ligilimancy on him in an effort to break him, he’d read of the art of penetrating another’s mind and it made his blood boil to know that this monster was privy to his thoughts. Harry went running across Kurt’s peripheral vision, Kurt deduced that Voldemort’s concentration was broken as the pain lifted but he did not move; he thought he still had a hold over Kurt, his powers must have been weaker until he was completely alive again.

“Yes Potter,” he taunted with Harry’s wand still pointed at Kurt, “the process is almost complete, soon Ginny Weasley will be dead and Lord Voldemort will return, very much alive.” The basilisk emerged from the deep water between the statue and their slab, “ _finish him!_ ”

“Expilliarmus,” Kurt executed the spell perfectly and Harry’s wand went off flying, “Accio wand.” He held both wands in his hands as he watched the serpent pursue Harry once more, “stupify!”

Kurt fired the curse from both wands, something he knew to be impossible for someone his age; the spell was much more effective this time. Kurt turned his attention to Harry who was scaling the statue with a great big sword in his hands, “Where did you get sword from?”

“It came out of the sorting hat,” Harry stood atop the statue when he spoke, the basilisk lunged at him and he swung the sword.

“Stupify,” once more Kurt stunned the serpent, this time it turned straight at him, “Shit.”

As Kurt readied himself to run for his life Harry did something Kurt would have never done; he jumped off the statue and lunged the sword down between the basilisk’s eyes, coming to rest straddled on its head. The monster let out a great cry, flailed about wildly before dropping and throwing Harry off; it was dead.

Kurt ran over to where Harry was, dropping both wands; he was greeted by an exposed bone that had ripped through both flesh and the leg of Harry’s trousers, “What do I do? I can only repair little bones and I can’t carry you.”

“I guess I’ll have to finish this the old fashioned way,” Voldemort picked up Harry’s wand.

“Actually, No!” Kurt slit the palm of his hand open on the sword and it began to bleed freely, “the only way you can do that is with a little Ginny Weasley in you and I’m not letting her leave this place with less soul than before. Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, hanc animam redintegra,” As Kurt spoke with his bleeding palm extended toward Voldemort his blood pooled on the floor along with the blood from Harry’s leg and the basilisk; it formed a two ended arrow that pointed to Voldemort at one end and Ginny at the other, “lustratus! lustratus!”

Slowly Voldemort started to become more feint and Harry’s wand fell straight through him, “No, stop!”

The arrow stopped pointing at Ginny Weasley when Voldemort was almost completely transparent and turned to the diary that lay discarded beside her, Voldemort started to disintegrate and flow into the diary. Kurt grabbed the sword and slashed the diary in two, “That’s for calling my father a filthy muggle, for your information he has very good hygiene habits.”

Ink spilled from the diary where he had cut it.

Ginny’s eye’s shot open, she looked about and saw Kurt and then Harry, “I didn’t mean to, he made me do it.”

“Ginny, Follow the chamber,” Harry said between gritted teeth, “You’ll find Ron, go get help.”

Something dawned on Kurt as he watched the blood on the floor that had separated into three puddles once more, “I’m bleeding.” He whispered it the first time, “I’m bleeding, I’m going to die. Harry you're bleeding, you’re going to die.”

“What happened to the badass that cut his own hand open and stood up to Voldemort?” Harry let out a painful laugh.

“Anger and Adrenaline,” Kurt smiled as he became dizzy from blood loss and fell to his knees, “We were going to die anyway.”

Fawkes hopped up to Harry’s leg and began to weep, before Kurt’s eyes the wound began to heal; Harry smiled broadly, “Phoenix tears have healing powers, we’re going to be okay.”

“Can I have some of that before I scar,” Kurt held out his palm, the bird sqwauked at him and he pulled his hand away.

Harry giggled, “I think that might have been: Honey, save it for Oprah.”

“Oh my gosh, I said that one time,” Kurt help out his hand with a small apology, the phoenix tears burned slightly but Kurt’s hand healed better than any modern medicine could manage, “Which ways out?”

“The way is blocked,” Harry offered with a wince, “the stromadolites fell and blocked the way.”

Fawkes gesture for them to grab on, Kurt through caution to the wind and the majestic bird lifted all three of them out through the pipe from whence she had come, they took a turn at the next pipe they came to and they were soon descending.

“Ron,” Harry called out as they touched down.

“Harry, Kurt, Ginny,” his face lit up at the sight of his sister, “You’re alright.”

“Of course we’re alright,” Harry punched him in the arm, “We were with Kurt.”

Kurt looked about what he suspected was the antechamber, “this place is filthy.”

“How do we get out?” Ron asked.

“We could create a human chain and Fawkes could lift us out,” Harry suggested.

“Fawkes might have super strength but I can barely do a pull up let alone hold another person’s weight up,” Kurt counter and gave it some thought, “Flagellum.” Kurt’s wand extended into a long white whip, he tied one end to Fawkes’s ankle, Everybody keep a firm grip, the grooves in the leather should make it easier.”

“Hi,” Professor Lockhart smiled goofily at him, “Who are you?”

“Why is this clown here?” Kurt raised a brow as they took off down the hallway and up the pipes, “And what’s wrong with him?”

“He’s a fraud and he tried to wipe our memory with my wand and it exploded,” Ron giggled.

“Oh,” Kurt shrugged, “that’s how he gets away with it?”

“You knew he was a fraud?” Ron countered.

“Professor Dumbledore told me,” Kurt shrugged as they touched down in Mertyl’s bathroom, Kurt turned to the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, “ _Close._ ” The sinks moved back into their original positions and it was over, Kurt turned on his heels to leave the girls bathroom, “I asked him why he would hire such an idiot and he told me that he was the only person who applied and that he had to hire him even if he was a fraud, it was during one of our little meetings.”

“Why don’t I get to have little meetings with Dumbledore?” Ron asked in an unnaturally sharp voice.

“Quiet Ronald,” Kurt smacked the boy’s arm, “people are sleeping, I need to sleep and eat, I’m so hungry.” Kurt noticed them all following him down the stairs instead of going on to the grand staircase and Gryffindor tower, “Where are you all going?”

“We kind of have to tell somebody we’re alive,” Harry stated, Kurt knew in that moment that his hunger was inhibiting his ability to think. As they crossed the main courtyard hordes of students in their pyjamas appeared in the corridors, pointing at them and whispering, “How the hell did they know we were out.”

“We walked by like a hundred painting,” Ron pointed out to him, “They’re all gossips those paintings.”

From the crowd emerged a too familiar face, “I knew you fools would be able to figure it out without me!”

“Hermione!” Kurt ran to her and hugged her tightly, “these two almost got me eaten twice.”

“Oh God,” Hermione looked horrified, “What are you wearing?”

Kurt was taken aback by the question but suddenly remembered his brooch, “you mean the brooch, it’s an eye carved from bone.”

“It’s grotesque,” Hermione made uncomfortable eye contact with the brooch.

“It’s art,” Kurt countered.

There was suddenly a large cheer and Kurt prepared himself to take a bow but he saw Professor Dumbledore and knew everyone was glad to see him, “I’m back, I guess that means we’re staying opened.” The cheers turned to roars, Dumbledore leaned down to whisper to Kurt, “Good thing it’s Friday, and we don’t have to worry about classes tomorrow.”

“It’s actually Saturday,” Hermione checked her watch, “three in the morning to be exact.”

Dumbledore waved her off, “I was in New York five minutes ago, jet lag minus the jet.” As though having a sudden realisation his head shot up, “Three in the morning, why isn’t anyone in bed?”

“They were waiting in the great hall to hear back from the Chamber of Secrets, most of the students were very worried about their peers,” Professor McGonagall seemed to appear from thin air, “We have business waiting in your office, the five of you come with me.” She then addressed the masses, “The rest of you get to bed, we will discuss this in the morning but I advise you to unpack your bags.”

They walked the short distance to the gilded gargoyle, “Ritz bars,” Dumbledore let out a little laugh as he spoke and the staircase began to rise from the ground and they all climbed on. When they came to the landing the office doors were waiting and open to embrace their master, “Feels good to be back.”

“Professor Dumbledore!” Finn’s voice exclaimed as they entered, his face lit up, “Kurt!”

“Finnocence,” Kurt eyed his parents sitting beside his brother on couches he had never seen in this office before, “Dad, Carole and a sleeping Harley.”

The Weasleys were gathered in their masses for a reunion of their own. His father stepped closer before enveloping him in a hug, “You got captured by a killer monster.”

“You know what they say,” Kurt spoke into his father’s shoulder, “Live fast, die young; bad girls do it well-”

“Good thing you’re not a girl,” Hermione interjected before he could speak.

“You stole my punch line,” Kurt groaned as he stepped back into the space beside her.

“You must be one of the brave fellows who saved my ballerina boy,” his father had turned to Harry, he got down on one knee so that he was at eye level with Harry. Kurt exchanged a warm hug with Carole and gave Harley a kiss on the forehead before engaging Finn.

“He ended up saving all of our lives,” Harry was blushing brightly at this point, “He did… I don’t even know what he did and stopped Voldemort.”

“Voldemort?” His father had turned back to him, “that’s the Hitler guy, right?” Kurt nodded nervously, “that’s my boy!”

“How I do it!” at which point the Hudson-Hummel brood began to dance rather spastically with comic faces to match before striking poses and declaring, “flawless.”

“Now we know why he’s so strange,” Fred whispered to George, who elbowed him in the ribs.

“I’d like some details,” Professor Dumbledore pointed for the four of them to sit on one couch while he was passing out cups of tea and playing mum.

They began to recount their adventures; first Ginny told them of her possession and the blanks in her memory, she started with finding the diary in her new school things during the summer, chronicled all the attacks and their motives, and finally closed with how Percy intercepted her attempt at telling Ron and Harry when she’d rid herself of the diary and how she was forced to steal it back when she saw Harry had it. Hermione was next, she recounted their entire year of investigation- omitting their use of polyjuice- till she came to her sudden realisation in transfiguration; she remembered reading about the basilisk somewhere, not realising it was Kurt’s copy of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , she found an extract that she ripped out and told the first person she saw, they were on their way to find help when they were petrified whilst looking around a corner with a mirror.

Kurt’s turn was next, his tail was a humble one, that spanned less than twenty-four hours; he’d been followed by Ron and Harry who told a disjointed tale of bumping into McGonagall as she was looking for Kurt, hearing the monster had taken Kurt and Ginny, finding the discarded parchment on the basilisk and going into the chamber.

Professor Dumbledore was stroking his beard, “That’s all lovely but what actually happened in the chamber?”

“Tom Riddle tried to steal a piece of Ginny’s soul with the diary,” Harry answered meekly.

“Diary?” Professor Dumbledore looked intrigued.

Kurt furnished the ink splattered diary, “Sorry, I kind of destroyed it in a fit of anger.”

“How did that come to pass?” Professor Dumbledore gave a small smile, “I’ve tried countless times to bait you into anger and you didn’t so much as flinch.”

“Voldemort is better at pushing my buttons,” Kurt shrugged, “it was after Harry did the craziest thing ever, he stabbed the basilisk between the eyes with the sword-”

“Then… I don’t know what Kurt did but it saved the day,” Harry interrupted him.

“I simply used three samples of noble blood; the blood of a slain beast, the blood of the brave and the blood that is sacrificed; to cast a spell that ripped Ginny’s soul from Voldemort’s, repaired Ginny’s soul and returned Voldemort’s to where it had come from, the diary,” Kurt smiled, “then hacked it with the sword and it sprayed ink everywhere.”

“So one might say you sprayed the room?” George joked, earning himself a disapproving look from Percy and his father.

“Truly remarkable,” Professor Dumbledore nodded.

Whilst Kurt was preening in his victory a red-haired woman he’d only seen in passing on platform nine and three quarters kneeled before him, “You saved my Ginny’s soul, for that I am eternally grateful.”

“No need for that,” Kurt smiled sweetly, “I was doing what was in my best interest, Ron would have been unbearable if he’d lost his sister. Now, could somebody get me something to eat before I die here?”

Everybody let out cheerful laugh.


	10. Bonus 002: Dear Tom, It's Ginny

_Dear Diary,_

_It’s Ginny; I’m starting at Hogwarts soon and I’m really excited about it, my whole life there has been a Weasley at Hogwarts and now it’s finally my time. I might not get to play quidditch like the boys even though I know I could probably fly circles around most of them; mum said it simply wouldn’t do. I just really hope the other kids like me, I’ve never really had anyone but mum and she didn’t care about what I wore but some of these other kids might make fun of me for having hand-me-down clothes from my brothers; mum even managed to get me second hand uniforms. I don’t want to be the weird girl in old boys’ clothes._

_Harry potter gave me his signed copies of Gilderoy Lockhart’s books, at least those are new. I found this diary with them, he is so thoughtful and kind and handsome, and it is such an honour to have him in our home. The only problem is that I can’t bring myself to speak in front of him, he probably doesn’t notice me; why would a boy of his talents and fame notice a girl like me? I’m just boring Ginny Weasley, I wish I was prettier, maybe then he’d notice me._

_Yours Always,_

_Ginevre Molly Weasley… Potter?_

**_Hi Ginny._ **

_Who are you?_

**_I’m your friend, my name is Tom._ **

_Your name is on the cover, is this your diary?_

**_Yes, it was but now it’s yours. I will just be here to lend a sympathetic ear, you can tell me anything and I won’t repeat it to anyone. I understand your pain, I also went to Hogwarts with second hand things too; I was an orphan you see._ **

_Oh, I’m so sorry._

**_It’s quite alright._ **

_Harry Potter is also an orphan._

**_Who is Harry Potter?_ **

_This cute boy, he’s my brother’s best friend. He defeated He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named when he was just a baby, that’s why he’s famous; he’s The-Boy-Who-Lived._

**_I’m sorry, but I don’t know who He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named is. Might you explain?_ **

_He’s this really evil wizard, mum says I should never say his name. He killed my uncles, you know, before I was born… I think it was before Bill was born too. I guess telling you wouldn’t be saying it, Lord Voldemort._

**_Lord Voldemort has been defeated?_ **

_Yes, he tried to kill Harry when he was a baby but he ended up dying himself. Harry lost his parents though, did you know Voldemort?_

**_Yes. When was this?_ **

_Heavens, it was donkeys years ago. Maybe ten years ago._

**_And Harry Potter lived after Voldemort tried to kill him?_ **

_Yes. He’s very brave, he has a lightning scar from his forehead from that night; it makes him so much more handsome, it adds an element of danger to his look._

**_That sounds interesting._ **

_You know, nobody ever listens to me. Thank you Tom, you really understand me._

**_That’s what friends are for._ **

~0~

_Hi Tom._

**_Ginny, I’m glad you’re back._ **

_You  won’t believe the day I’ve had._

**_You can tell me about it in a moment, but would you put your wand on the page._ **

_Why?_

**_Trust me, I want to show you a cool trick._ **

_Okay._

**_IMPIRIO. STRANGLE ALL THE ROOSTERS AT HOGWARTS._ **

~0~

_Tom, the strangest thing happened this morning._

**_What is it?_ **

_I woke up and I had rooster feathers all over my front._

**_It’s probably those girls in your dorm playing tricks, they are jealous you know the famous Harry Potter. Don’t trust them, ever._ **

_I’m so glad I have you Tom._

**_I’m glad I have you too Ginny._ **

_I have to go to the Halloween feast._

**_Before you go, place your wand on the page._ **

_Of course._

**_IMPIRIO. I want you to do exactly as I say, we’re going to open the Chamber of Secrets…_ **

~0~

_Oh Tom, it’s terrible!_

**_What is it Ginny?_ **

_The Chamber of Secrets has been opened and everybody suspects Harry._

**_They think Harry’s doing this?_ **

_Yes, Mr Filch’s cat was petrified because he’s a squib and he think Harry did it because he punished him. I had hoped something terrible would happen to him but not his kitt. I am glad Peeves is gone too, he’s just dreadful._

**_It’s alright Ginny, don’t worry._ **

~0~

_I can’t believe what I just heard Pavarti and Lavender saying in the common room, it can’t be!_

**_What is it?_ **

_That deviant has infected Harry too! He’s dating that Voldemort Spawn, my Harry!_

**_Voldemort Spawn? Lord Voldemort had children._ **

_Oh, if only you knew Tom. He’s always sashaying about the castle as though he owns it; with his lips pursed and his fancy clothes. He terrorises everyone, Ron told me Kurt punched him once and the other day he used dark magic to burn that boy’s face._

**_Kurt?_ **

_Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. He says his name all the time, using a muggle name to hide who he really is. I hate him so much that sometimes I wish he’d just die._

**_Put your wand on the page._ **

_Done._

**_Impirio. Let’s go kill mudbloods, afterwards you’ll be less whiny._ **

~0~

**_God Ginny, you're so stupid!_ **

_I’m sorry Tom._

**_How could you not find somebody to kill?_ **

_I just really wanted to find Kurt._

**_You stupid bitch, this isn’t about what you want!_ **

_Tom!?!_

**_Put your wand on the page._ **

*Splash, Splash*

**_Crucio._ **

*Splash, Splash*

**_I hope you’ve learned your lesson._ **

_Yes Tom, I’m so sorry._

**_It’s alright now, I forgive you._ **

~0~

_Harry was almost severely hurt by a bludger in today’s quidditch match but that awful Kurt had to grab everybody’s attention by saving his life; Voldemort probably wants to kill Harry himself._

**_Oh you poor thing, how is Harry?_ **

_He’s just fine, hell if I could get a moment to actually ask him but he was so swamped by people; specifically Kurt._

**_Can you try getting him alone?_ **

_How am I supposed to even get Harry’s attention when Collin Creevy is always lurking about._

**_Let me throw you a bone, place your wand on the page._ **

_Thank you Tom._

**_Impirio…_ **

~0~

_I have great news, Collin Creevy was petrified and Kurt was caught red-handed at the scene of the crime. I hear he’s been called to the headmasters office; I hope Dumbledore expels him._

**_That old fool is still around? And who made him Headmaster?_ **

_Dumbledore is a great wizard, he’s the best headmaster this school has ever had._

**_I hear Phineas Nigellus Black was quite revolutionary, he truly had a great vision for Hogwarts and worked tirelessly to see his ambitions recognised; obviously better than Dumbledore who keeps the company of mudbloods._ **

_My mother says that’s a bad word._

**_Your mother is a fool._ **

_Tom, that’s a terrible thing to say._

**_It’s true._ **

_Something strange happened at dinner today._

**_What is it this time?_ **

_A puppet dressed in Hufflepuff robes landed with “you’re next” was hanging from the ceiling after the candles fell, did we do that?_

**_No, we aren’t after Hufflepuffs._ **

~0~

_Kurt was in charge of Duelling club, strutting about pretending to be teaching us to defend ourselves. He’s a parselmouth, you know._

**_The mark of a powerful wizard._ **

_The mark of a dark wizard, Salazar Slytherin was a parselmouth._

**_Lord Voldemort aswell._ **

_How do you know that?_

**_It’s a rumour I heard._ **

_Oh, okay._

**_Let’s go kill mudbloods._ **

_Of course Tom._

~0~

**_You’re incompetence is starting to wear my patience thin._ **

_I’m sorry Tom, we were right around the corner from them but suddenly there were too many people._

**_I don’t care about people._ **

_We could do something over the break, there won’t be many people then. I was up all night strangling roosters, I was tired._

**_Will Harry Potter and Kurt Elizabeth Hummel be staying?_ **

_Ron says they’re all going home but I could stay if you wanted._

**_No, it alright._ **

~0~

_Tom, how could you make me say that to my father? I don’t think I’ve ever been in so much trouble before._

**_He was lying, the bloodtraitor needs to learn to hold his tongue._ **

_But to make me call him all those awful things? If mum hadn’t intervened I’m sure I’d have gotten a good few lashes._

**_Nothing you don’t deserve._ **

~0~

_What did you tell Harry Potter? I saw he had the diary, I’m sorry I tried to get rid of you but please tell me you didn’t tell him what I’d done._

**_Oh, Ginny, it’s you._ **

_Yes it’s me._

**_Harry and I were having such a fun time chatting, I wish you’d left me just a little bit longer._ **

_No, you’d tell him all my secrets, I can’t risk that. I’d rather keep doing bad things than have him know my secrets._

**_Very well, I want you to do something for me. Are you alone?_ **

_I’m in our bathroom, Kurt and Hermione Granger aren’t here for a change._

**_I want you to cut yourself and pour your blood on my pages._ **

_Anything for you Tom._

~0~

_Professor Dumbledore’s been suspended! Are you happy? We made it happen._

**_Imagine that, Dumbledore driven from his castle by the memory of me._ **

_We can attack mudbloods whenever you want now._

**_Let’s wait just a little, tell me when you know when Harry Potter or Kurt Elizabeth Hummel are in an isolated area._ **

_Anything for you, I live to please you._

~0~

_I just saw Hermione Granger heading toward the library, the whole group will probably be there till they have to leave for Astronomy._

**_Perfect, you know what you have to do._ **

_I nothing but to please your fantasy._

~0~

**_Ginny, it’s okay that we only have the mudblood. Based on what you’ve told me of Harry Potter and Kurt Elizabeth Hummel I have formulated a plan._ **

_I am your loyal servent._

**_I want you to leave a final message and come into the chamber, I’ll take control so you don’t mess it up._ **


	11. Chapter 11

Kurt’s first day since the incidences of the Chamber of Secrets had gotten off to a slow start, he had slept till midday again and even then it had taken him a moment to get his brain into gear. At lunch time, when he returned to the world of the living he was called to Professor Dumbledore’s office; they discussed the finer details of his adventure and Lord Voldemort with no one around to be startled by the obscenity of what had actually happened. He’d then elected to spend the afternoon outside with Hermione, Neville, Harry, Ron, Luna and Bomballerina; Finn was getting reacquainted with his friends whom he was on speaking terms with one again.

“I hope we get to do something even cooler next year,” Kurt smiled as he lay on the grass staring at the clear blue sky.

“You thought this was cool?” Hermione looked shocked, she hovered over him with a worried look on her face, “Are you alright?”

Ron let out a booming laugh, “Kurt is drinking the cool aide, allow him.”

“Think about it,” Kurt pulled a leaf out of her hair, “We read hundreds of books, I got to perform some crazy magic, We saw a beast that hadn’t been seen in hundreds of years; that sounds like a good time to me, that’s like a museum, a library and school amalgamated into one.”

“When you put it that way,” Luna smiled as scratched behind Bomballerina’s ears, “that does sound like fun.”

“I learnt how to remember what I’d forgotten,” Neville smiled broadly, “my gran’s going to be ecstatic.”

“The only thing that might make this year any better would be if they cancelled exams,” Ron sighed longingly with Scabbers perched on his chest asleep.

“What?” Kurt couldn’t believe his ears, “Why would you want that? Then you won’t how much you learned this year, you won’t be able to gage how much work you have to do over the summer.”

“You sound ridiculous, who does work during the summer?” Ron countered; Kurt, Hermione and Luna raised their hands, “you’re all mental."

“We’re just passionate about learning,” Hermione gave a guilty smile, “I am however, worried that we might be deposed as the top of the year in light of how distracted we were this year.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Neville’s voice was soothing, “I’m sure nobody can compete with your brilliance.”

Hermione smiled broadly and her cheeks burned bright red, “thanks.”

“Padma Petil spent the whole year working on her studies,” Luna countered, she managed to sound like she was a million miles away even though she was right next to him, “She said she’d never done worse than first academically till last year.”

Kurt and Hermione exchanged nervous looks but decided to roll their eyes dismissively; they were being simple today, that was a problem for tomorrow.

“It was weird how Voldemort had convinced himself you were his son,” Harry spoke for the first time that day, he’d been lost in thought all day, “It’s spooky because he actually looked like you and Cedric had a love child.”

Their friends looked shocked by what Harry was saying, they kept looking from one boy to another, “Where would he get such an idea?” Hermione didn’t seem the least bit impressed by the idea, “Thinking he can claime you as his own, even if there were a biological relation, he can’t swoop in and claim you because you’ve become one of the most brilliant wizards of your age.”

“Wait,” Kurt held up a silencing finger, “I get ‘of your age’ and you get ‘of the age’, nice.”

“You know what I mean,” Hermione blushed as he teased her.

“Oh no,” Harry went on from where he’d left off, “Kurt was having none of it, told him off.”

“Surely not,” Neville looked nervously at Kurt, “What happened to respecting authority?”

“He’s not an authority figure,” Luna countered, “Lord is an aristocratic title, they don’t have any official authority.”

“Also,” Harry was rather chatty at this point, “It’s not really his title, it’s an anagram for his name.”

“Furthermore,” Kurt interjected, “I don’t recognise tyranny as authority.”

“It wasn’t ‘anger and adrenaline’ this time?” Ron questioned playfully.

“I think at some point you called him ugly,” Harry chortled.

“He told me he was devilishly handsome,” Kurt giggled.

“Was he?” Hermione teased.

Kurt clutched his chest, “So handsome, the best of Cedric Diggory, Colin Firth and me rolled into one; it was so wrong for someone so evil to be that beautiful.”

Hermione pursed her lips and furrowed his brow, “He didn’t look that good on the back of Quirrel’s head, granted he was on the back of somebody’s head.”

“I almost forgot seeing him that time,” Kurt thought it over and concurred, “not even remotely similar.”

“But how did he come to the understanding that he was your father?” Hermione’s brow didn’t relax, “if it was a memory of his sixteen year old self from the nineteen-forties, how did he know you existed and where did he get that idea from?”

Kurt took the opportunity to clear up the misunderstanding, “Apparently, Ginny mentioned me under the title of ‘Spawn of Voldemort’ and he thought she was being serious unaware that she was simply being facetious.” Kurt let out a hearty laugh, “It was probably after rumours that Harry and I were an item started flying around.”

“My sister is not facetious,” Ron scolded, “Take it back.”

“Now Ronald,” Harry spoke in a forced falsetto, “is that anyway to talk to your Kurt?”

Kurt raised a questioning brow, “when did I become Ronald’s?”

“Yesterday when Professor Snape told us that you and Ginny had been taken,” Harry teased the red haired boy whose ears had turned as red as his hair, if not more so, “he exclaimed a pained, ‘oh no, not my Kurt’.”

“That’s not what I said,” Ron corrected in a controlled voice, “I said, ‘it’s got my Kurt’. I… my words got mixed up, I meant my sister.”

“That’s called a Freudian Slip,” Hermione giggled, tucking a tuft of hair behind her ears, “that’s when you unintentionally say what you truly mean.”

“you know what Hermione-” Ron’s reply was cut short by Bomballerina pouncing over him and grabbing Scabbers between his jaws, “That monster’s got Scabbers.”

“Bomballerina is not a monster,” Kurt scolded back defensively, “She’s a kitty cat.”

“Kitty cat?” Ron let out a forced laugh, “More like a tiger that thinks it’s a dog.”

“Tigers have stripes,” Neville pointed out, “A puma would be a more accurate description.”

Kurt stepped over to where Bomballerina had Scabbers pinned on the ground growling at him viciously, “Bella,” Kurt scolded but she didn’t desist with her growling, “Bomballerina, you let Scabbers go this instance.” The kneazle turned to Kurt with large pleading eyes, “None of that, you don’t know what kind of diseases that rat is carrying.”

“Hey,” Ron raised an objecting hand, “you be nice to my rat.”

“I’m just being honest,” Kurt countered as he got between Ron and Bomballerina as he tried to lunge at her, “you don’t exactly have the best hygiene habits, so who knows when that thing was last washed? Bella I told you to let him go!”

“What do you mean I don’t have the best hygiene habits?” Ron’s voice squeaked defensively.

“You wore robes you’d spilled your potions brew on for more than a week before having them laundered,” Neville pointed out, “And I’ve seen you sniff test some of your clothes?”

“I sniff test some of the time,” Harry shrugged lazily, “it’s just something boys do.”

“I don’t,” Neville squeaked, “my gran would lose her mind.”

“There is no excuse,” Kurt added, “they do laundry twice a week; all you have to do is put it in the hamper.”

“I promise to have your monster’s blood out of this shirt by Monday,”  Ron pulled their attention back from their tangent, he dived in low and snatched Scabbers away from a very disgruntled Bomballerina.”

They all lay on the grass in silence once more whilst the tension dissipated, Hermione was first to speak, “If we hadn’t been wizards, where would we be?”

“Ottery St Catchpole,” Luna drew shapes in the air with her wand as she spoke, “Working at the Quibbler of course.”

“I’d sleep till midday every day,” Ron smiled lazily, “I’d only get out of bed to eat.”

“How unimpressive,” Hermione grimaced at the idea, “I’d be finishing at The Dragon School this year, I suppose. Then I’d be going to Headington School.”

“Headington? That’s in Oxford,” Kurt raised a quizzical brow, “I thought you lived in London,”

“I do live in London,” Hermione countered, “My dad drove me from Camden every morning; he and my mother have their own practice, so he wasn’t exactly in a rush to get to work. You also lived in London, where’d you go to school?”

“University College School,” Kurt gave a small prideful smile, “I’m surprised two people who love school as much as you and I have never had this conversation.”

“You at one of the more progressive schools?” Hermione scoffed, “I always had you pegged as a traditionalist, what with your obsession with Oxford.”

Kurt raised a silencing finger, “Bite me.”

“I wonder what Stonewall High would be like,” Harry let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m guessing it had stone walls,” Kurt shrugged.

“Because UCS was a university, a college and a school,” Hermione added patronizingly.

Kurt rolled his eyes, “I was trying to be facetious.”

“I’d probably be travelling with my Uncle Algie,” Neville sounded almost longing, “And he’d still be trying to kill me.”

As evening swung around word had spread that there was going to be a grand feast in their honour; and true enough the hall was elaborately decorated with tapestries that showed the event that had transpired in the Chamber of Secrets, one for each of the four of them. The decorations were not the only difference tonight, spread was also different, as though by some divine power it appeared to be more to Kurt’s liking; there where cheese platters, garlic bread, an assortment of exotic and rich pies and pastries in both a savoury and sweet variety, there was perfectly medium steak and vegetables by the lot.

They were huddled in a large group that was predominantly Gryffindor students as they waited to be ordered to return to their seats; Finn and company charged into the great hall and dispersed, it was his brother who came toward their group.

“Sup sluts,” Finn slapped a flyer onto the counter in front of them.

“What is this?” Kurt raised questioning brow as he read the upside down flyer, “Muggle Activities Club?”

“It’s an idea we were working on before I stopped talking to my friends,” Finn was bouncing on the balls of his feet as he spoke, “It’s a sports club, we play some rugby or something and then we drink some beer.”

“Alcohol?” Hermione’s eyes looked on the brink of falling out her skull.

“I’m an adult,” Finn said with a prideful disposition.

“You’re thirteen,” she countered.

“I’ll be fourteen before the year is through,” Finn countered.

“We got the talk last summer and according to Carole this is when we’re going to start experimenting with alcohol,” Kurt soothed both beasts in an effort to prevent anyone from hearing, “she told us not to binge drink, to be safe and gave us rape whistles.”

“No lowerclassmen allowed,” Finn added with a smile, “Fourth year and up.”

“I hate to kill your vibe,” Ron pointed out with a defeated sigh, “But we’re second years.”

“It starts next year and,” Finn pointed his thumbs at himself and did a little jig, “I got a small group of lowerclassmen special permission to join, and that includes you.” Ron and Neville looked on the verge of exploding, Finn pointed at luna with a little wink, “You too pretty girl.”

“Oh wow,” Luna’s words didn’t match her less than interested tone, “but alcohol increases the wratspurts in your head.”

“Senior boys?” Kurt raised a satisfied brow.

Hermione let out a little giggle, “You can count Kurt in, and me by association.”

Neville looked at Hermione and she met his gaze, “me too.”

“Coolsness,” Finn pointed at them with finger pistols, “bang bang, Cedric will be happy to hear that.”

“Did your brother just finger-bang us?” Hermione adjusted her aliceband with a small giggle.

“I…” Kurt’s words were stifled by his laughter, “We are not far enough south for this.”

Their conversation was halted by Harry’s return from his meeting with Professor Dumbledore, he had rather cheery smile on his face as he plonked himself into the seat beside Luna.

“You’re looking rather pleased with yourself,” Luna smiled as she spoke, “Good for you Harry Potter.”

“I want to know why!” Hermione demanded.

“I just set Dobby free,” Harry whispered to their group.

“The house elf?” Ron looked affronted by Harry’s words, “They don’t want to be free, they like the work they do.”

“If they liked it, it wouldn’t be called enslavement,” Hermione countered angrily.

Kurt took the mark to continue, “That is something oppressors tell themselves to ease their guilt; ‘we’re trying to save your soul for damnation so we’re depriving you of equal rights’, it is front for bigotry and backwards thinking.”

“Besides,” Harry shrugged, “Dobby hated working for the Malfoys.”

“Oh,” Ron’s shoulders loosened, “if I worked for the Malfoys I’d also want to be freed.”

“That’s lovely,” Luna smiled brightly, ignoring the group debate, “I hope he really enjoys it.”

“How did you manage that?” a satisfied Hermione hissed in reply, “my research has led me to believe only the elf’s master can set him free.”

“Your research?” Ron raised a brow.

“I was curious, so I went to the library,” Hermione shrugged.

“I gave Lucius Malfoy, his master, Tom Riddle’s diary which I’d slipped a sock into because he’d put it in Ginny’s things that day in Diagon Alley,” Harry was speaking loud enough for just them to hear, “he gave it to Dobby and the rest is history.”

“He couldn’t have been happy about it,” Kurt offered, “Have you not put yourself in any danger?”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry waved his hands dismissively.

“Might I have your attention,” Professor Dumbledore was standing at the owl podium in simple dark robes that shimmered with star like the night sky and a pointy brimless witches hat, “I’m sure by now you are all aware of what transpired here yesterday, so I shan’t go into that; however, special awards will be given in light of those activities. Firstly, to the brightest which of the age; I award Hermione Granger fifty points and the eternal gratitude of this school for her quick and intelligent thinking, solving a mystery I couldn’t solve in fifty years. Secondly, to Ronald Weasley I award fifty points; for bravery in the face of your fears. To Harry Potter, for ending the reign of terror brought upon by the Serpent of Slytherin and showing great loyalty to the school, I award a hundred points.” There was wild applause from the Gryffindors around the room, “Finally, to Kurt Elizabeth Hummel; who looked evil in the eye and saw so much of himself but still chose the path of righteousness, risking his own life in doing so, and saved not just everybody in this school yesterday, in spite of the fact that many of you had turned your backs on him, but kept evil at bay from the whole world; a hundred and fifty points.”

As the headmaster stood at the podium waiting, there was silence in the great hall as nobody spoke or made a sound; it was Collin who got to his feet and clapped enthusiastically, followed in close second by Justin, then Hermione and Finn, and then the whole school. Kurt felt a violent blush creeping up his neck, for somebody who preened in praise he made up in his head, he was surprisingly bad at taking real praise, “I further decree that in light of these events, exams should be cancelled.” There was even louder cheering from the student body but Professor Dumbledore held up a hand, “but this is a school, so that isn’t happening. I would like to inform the second and fifth years that they will be having classes tomorrow in an effort to help them select their electives and NEWT level classes respectively. Because of Professor Lockhart’s absence, I will be taking his classed till such a time that a replacement can be found. Enjoy your dinner.”

~0~

“What electives are you thinking of taking?” Cedric’s voice was smooth as velvet as he slipped into the space next to Kurt on the bench where Kurt sat watching the wimping willow.

“Hello to you too Cedric,” Kurt shot a disapproving look at the boy.

“Oh,” He smiled devilishly, “Excuse my lack of manners; Hello Kurt, how are you?”

“I’m well,” Kurt looked down at his form as he spoke, “And yourself?”

“Couldn’t be better,” He shot Kurt a queer look, “Why are you struggling so much with this?”

“Well,” Kurt pursed his lips nervously, “I’m usually much more decisive, heck I already knew what subjects I was going to take at O-level and A-level, as well as what I was going to study at Oxford but this is different. What did you take?”

“Care For Magical Creatures and Arithmancy,” Cedric shrugged casually, “What did you enjoy most on Sunday?”

“That’s the complicated part,” Kurt let out a laugh, “Everything was so good; I loved math in school, so I’m all for Arithmancy; I could possibly pass up the opportunity to learn semiotics, so Ancient Runes is a given; I love knowing about nature which makes Care for Magical Creatures tempting, I’ve read _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ at least a hundred times; Muggle studies is a must because the wizarding worlds views of muggles would be an interesting subject to broach as somebody who knows both sides; Divination just seems like fun.”

“That was quite the mouth full,” Cedric breathed heavily, “just pick them all, I’ve heard of people getting twelve OWLs; I don’t know how they do it but if anyone can make it work, you can.”

“You’ve been listening to Finn,” Kurt felt a blush creeping up his neck as he stared at the handsome boy.

“I will admit,” Cedric looked almost as embarrassed as he did, “I have been drinking the cool aid.”

“Then you should know better to believe everything you hear,” Kurt averted his gaze.

“What about the things I see?” Kurt stole a look at the boy as he was talking.

“When was the last time you consulted an optometrist,” Kurt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, Cedric was so close to him that his breath was fogging them up. The taller boy leaned in and planted a short chaste kiss on his lips, Cedric’s lips were soft and full on his own for a moment or maybe a year.

“Berry?”

“Yes,” Kurt’s voice didn’t rise above a whisper even though there wasn’t a soul around to hear them speak, “what about Chodric?”

“What about it?” Cedric smirked, he was so handsome it made Kurt light headed. He was smiling goofily and couldn’t think straight, he couldn’t think straight; his smile fell.

“I have to go.” Kurt took off before the boy could persuad him to stay, he had to find Hermione; thinking apart had been a bad idea. As he reached the castle door he was pleasantly surprised to see Hermione on her way out, “Where are you off to?”

“To find you,” Hermione smiled, “You’ll never guess what I just heard in the library.”

“What’d you here?” Kurt nudged her playfully, “out with it.”

“Marietta Edgecomb, the third year Ravenclaw and best friend to Cho Chang,” Hermione paused to grow his anticipation, “told Angelina Johnson that Cho and Cedric broke up.”

“I know,” Kurt smiled devilishly.

“You know?” Hermione’s smile fell, “Somebody’s already told you? I wanted to be the bearer of good news just this once.”

Cedric walked by them as he came back into the castle, he smiled at Hermione nervously and greeted them with a small wave, “Some might say I heard it from the horse’s mouth.”

“The horse’s mouth indeed,” Hermione squealed excitedly, “Details, how’d he tell you?”

“All I’m saying is,” Kurt adjusted his hair, “he used his lips.”

“Oh my word,” Hermione’s eyes lit up, “you kissed Cedric Diggory.”

“Well,” Kurt straightened his glasses, “He kissed me.”

Hermione held out her hand for a high five, “Ten points to Slytherin.”

“I don’t think that’s how the point system works,” Kurt giggled nervously.

“So are you guys a thing?” Hermione asked the million dollar question.

“No,” Kurt smiled broadly, “I’m playing hard to get, but speaking of people being things… are you and Neville still in limbo?”

“I forget that you know,” Hermione fiddled with her aliceband nervously.

Kurt gave her a look over his glasses, “Honey, everybody with eyes can see.”

“Just like everybody can see the tension between you and Ron,” Hermione teased.

Kurt shrugged dismissively, “Don’t deflect.”

“Well not quite,” Hermione fiddled with the hem of her skirt, “We’re still in limbo.”

“Hmmm.”

Hermione went on the defensive, “I’m sorry but do you have something to say?”

“Do you want my opinion?” Hermione gave a small nod, “Carole always tells me that when dealing with boys there are two approaches; slow and steady wins the race, where you take step back to assess where you are at every interval, and then there’s diving in head first which is pretty self-explanatory.”

“I don’t know which of those is better,” Hermione shook her head.

“I think Carole is old as sand and has no idea what she’s talking about,” Kurt went on, “You could do what I do, don’t question it and go with the flow till you have enough data to draw a conclusion.”

“That goes against my very nature,” Hermione shook her head, “I’ll figure something out, thanks for being absolutely no help.”

“Always a pleasure,” Kurt smiled sweetly at his friend as they skipped merrily into the castle.

“What subjects did you pick?” Hermione asked him.

“All of them.”

“Good,” Hermione let out a sigh, “me too.”

~0~

By the time term closed Kurt was walking on sunshine, he hadn’t actually discussed the kiss with Cedric but he knew that now wasn’t a good time because they were about to separate for eleven weeks; of which he’d be spending eight in Greenland. Kurt was squeezed into a compartment of the Hogwarts express with all his closest friends and some on top of that; to call the compartment full would be the understatement of the year, overcrowded barely covered it.

“Remember that time we could all breath?” George winced as he squeezed onto the bench between Kurt and Finn, the bench seemed to grow to allow him but just barely.

“Stop reminiscing about the good old days and move up,” Fred demanded. Once more the bench stretched and the last person squeezed in, “Why is it you get to sit on the Kurt side of Hermione?”

“Then we’re sitting alphabetically,” George countered, “Fred, Hermione, George, Kurt, Luna.”

“I thought I was George,” Fred pointed at himself with confusion all over his face.”

“Forget that,” Kurt pointed at George, “since when does ‘G’ come after ‘H’ in the alphabet.”

George turned to him with a look of bewilderment, “You beat Voldemort one time and suddenly you know everything.”

“What’s his beef?” Harry looked confused.

“He’s a little upset we lost the house cup,” Ron whispered.

“We’d bet our win on Harry’s big adventure,” Fred moaned.

“Slytherin proved to you that Slow and Steady wins the race,” Kurt countered with a jovial smile.

“And Ravenclaw won the Academic Shield which pushed us ahead of you,” Luna gave a small clap.

Hermione let out a small huff that was echoed by the Hufflepuffs standing along the walls, “Hermione’s till a little sensitive about that.”

“And why wouldn’t she be?” Ernie MacMillan countered, “We were distracted by our fear.”

“Ravenclaw placed top in every year,” Luna argued, “whilst claiming a good few of the top ten spots as well, a feat to be commended.”

“Padma blindsided us all,” Hermione argued, “I was third, do you know how embarrassing that is for me?”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Justin spoke, “None of the other second years here made the top ten.”

“I was second,” Kurt smiled with pride, “I beat Hermione Granger, I’m going to tell my grandchildren about this.”

“I was petrified,” Hermione countered.

“For like a day,” Kurt argued back at her playfully.

“I did warn you that Padma was working hard,” Luna silenced both of them.

“Who is excited about my club next year?” Finn tried to divert their attention.

“Who is excited about Hogsmead visits?” Kurt shimmied as he spoke.

“I can’t wait to be a senior,” Ron spoke wishfully.

“Well, you’ve got quite the wait ahead of you,” Fred laughed at him.

“You won’t be a senior for more than a year,” George added.

“I can’t wait to leave this year behind me,” Ginny’s voice was small and shaky but it cut through the noise.

“Amen to that,” Kurt let out a heavy sigh and everybody concurred.


End file.
